Dancing Naked in the Fountain of Bloggers

Sometimes you've got to pull up your big girl pants and do something that terrifies you.  I'm not talking about dressing in gang colors and then walking in the rival gangs territory being all "Woo hoo!  Bloods Rule, Crips Drool!"  I'm talking about something that you want to do because it's somewhere on your bucket list. Deep in the recesses of your brain, hidden from all including your shadow, there's a gnawing little wish.  Just. What. If.

Part of you is petrified of failure.  Part of you is thinking - what the hell? What's the worst that could happen?  And part of you is thinking "Holy God, brain! Could you please STFU about all the 'worsts that could happen'!!"  Because once and a while, you have to believe in yourself and put yourself out there.  Just because you CAN.  Just to see what if.... And, that's akin to dancing naked in a fountain at the Bacardi Factory in Bermuda or in the fountain at the Clevelander Hotel in South Beach or during parents weekend at your Alma mater.   (Not that I'm speaking from experience.  Ok, I might be.). 

Today, I tucked my lily-livered self-esteem into my pocket of my Hudsons and entered my blog into the Blogger Idol contest.  I can't sing worth a damn.  I can't dance.  But, once in a great while, I believe that I can write.  (Unless I'm PMS-ing and then I am pretty sure my blog should be at the bottom of a bird cage as I cry into the shat on remains of my keyboard.) 

So, the deal is this.  Between now and September 20th people are auditioning their blogs to be one of the final 12.  Then, the contestants compete, in the same style as American Idol.  Except, no Aretha Franklin will be blasting through these tiny speakers.  The finalists are given topics every Saturday that has to be posted by the following Monday. Then the voting begins!  And I'm hoping for a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

A big part of me is terrified.  I mean, it's one thing to beg your friends and new acquaintances to follow your blathering.  It's entirely another thing to place your heart and soul in HTML in front of a group of other bloggers and see what they think of your baby.  You hope it's not like that Seinfeld episode when they are looking at that ugly baby and no one really knows what to say to the ecstatic new parents.  "Oh...look at that.  It's a whole lot of...words.  And punctuation.  Especially ellipses.  Girlfriend loves her some ellipses."  

But, it's too late now to turn back.  I have written up my 300 words self-adulation about why I am an Idol contender.  I FB'd, I tweeted, I have pressed send.  It is out there in the land of the Internet for all perpetuity. So, now in the fashion of Idol, I am asking you to help me.  Begging, actually.  Because I'm not afraid to roll like that in times of need.

To vote, you go to this link: https://www.facebook.com/bloggeridol and say you vote for my blog.  In fact, I'll type it out so you can just cut, click and paste. 

Voting for http://www.momaical.com! 

Now, there's nothing for me to do but wait, and over think, and wait some more.  Oh, and vote, of course. Lots of voting.  I'll keep you posted in the meanwhile if I hear anything.  If nothing but sobbing "You're a no good, heart breaker" is threatening to burst your eardrums through your speakers - you'll know I didn't make it. 

At least I don't have to kill off the other bloggers as part of the competition...yet...  

May the odds be ever in my favor...