the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: blogging (Page 8 of 11)

I’ll Be A Little Angel

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Margaret, I heard you loud and clear in the comments to my last post.

“This is getting weird.”

You’re right.

Next week I’m going to try to be good boy — the nice Jewish boy my mother raised me to be. I will not write anything salacious. As a blogger, I’m a role model to the community at large, which means certain responsibilites.

That’s why I’ve decided to drive down to San Diego to spend some time with intelligent bloggers such as Modigli, Dating Dummy, and Lushy to discuss matters such as politics and world affairs.

I also hope to grab some alone time in San Diego. I’d like to read this new book I got. For me, reading a good novel is the best way to stop thinking about Sophia and my frustrating sex life — and to think about other topics!

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A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: My “Lucy”

To All My Friends at BlogHer

I wish I were there!   Enjoy the conference!

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I’m curious to hear about all the latest blogging “techniques” that you learn about.

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Previous “I am jealous about BlogHer” posts:  What Do You Mean by That?   BlogHim ’06

For live-blogging from BlogHer, go to Supafine, Chantel, Liz, Karl, and Heather. 

 

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Reading Others

Her Real Name

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I was IMing with — let’s call her BlogGirl. We were talking about nothing in particular.

“Blogging… Crocs… my husband snores… Sophia… blah blah blah.”

“OK, I’m going to sleep, BlogGirl,” I said. “Or is it Vivian?” I added as I looked at the profile name on her blog.

“Actually, my real name is Beth.”

“Oh… hi, Beth. Nice to meet you.”

In the past year, I’ve emailed and IMed with bloggers around the world. I’ve discussed topics as diverse as death and dildos. But this was the single-most intimate moment with another blogger that I’ve ever had.

I had been blogging with BlogGirl for a year and I didn’t know her name.

Does anyone else want to tell me their real name?   If you email me it, I promise to delete it immediately and completely forget it by tomorrow.

Oh, and my real name is Neil.

 

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Hip and Unhip Cartoon Icons

Perfect Post to Be Syndicated by the Washington Post

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Sophia called me up and said she was hungry. I suggested our usual lunch place in Redono Beach.

“Not that place again,” she said. “Can’t we ever do anything different?”

I’ve heard this said to me many times in the bedroom, but never about my choices of where to eat lunch.

But then inspiration hit me.

“Oh, I know where I’ll take you. I found a place where they have really good gyros!”

“Great” said Sophia, turned-on by my surprising show of spontaneity. 

But things quickly changed as we pulled into the parking lot of Dave’s Burgers. I could see Sophia was incredulous.

“We’re going here?” she said, emphasis on HERE.

I reminded Sophia that some of the best hot dogs, burgers, sandwiches, even GYROS are created like masterpieces in the dumpiest of take-out joints.

Inside Dave’s Burgers, it was like Formica Heaven. The Menu board was as long as “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius” (pretentious literary reference to impress). There was Mexican food, Italian food, Greek food, and an assortment of burgers, with or without chili on top.

“This Gyro is like a sandwich with shaved meat in a pita, right” asked Sophia.

“Absolutely!”

“You know I don’t like sandwiches too much.”

Before I could spell “high maintenance,” I found a solution.

“Look,” I said, pointing towards the vast menu board, “They have a gyro platter for two dollars more. And it comes with a salad and a drink.”

Ten minutes later, we were sitting at at an uncomfortable plastic table while Sophia stared down at her plate glistening with fat, reconstituted meat slices.

“Aren’t they supposed to use real meat?” she asked.

Maybe I was so deluded by WANTING to find a good gyro sandwich in Redondo Beach, that I imagined it as tasty the first time. Or maybe when you order a sandwich rather than the platter, and you get it wrapped up in paper, you just don’t see what the meat actually looks like (or see it dripping with oil).

The “salad” was 1/6 lettuce, 1/6 french fries, and 2/3 greasy onion rings. We ended up tossing our food away.

“I hope the guys who work here don’t eat this crap every day,” said Sophia. “They’re gonna drop dead.”

Note to Editors of the Washington Post:

OK, let me take a little pause in this story for some literary self-criticism.

I understand that if I want my posts to be picked up by your illustrious newspaper, I must start telling “true” stories. That means no fudging the facts or using exaggeration. After all, imagine what would happen to my budding career if I start making up the story like Jayson Blair did with the Times.

The problem I have with most true life stories is that the endings are usually lame. Most real-life incidents don’t come with a ready punch-line. That said — THIS true-life “gyro” story does have a good ending. But the final twist is so forced and obvious that you are not going to believe that this really happened. It just seems like hack work. But it did happen. I swear. I swear on the names of your gods, Woodward and Bernstein.

BACK TO STORY:

Quick recap:

Sophia says, “I hope the guys who work here don’t eat this crap every day. They’re gonna drop dead.”

As we leave Dave’s Burgers, three fire engines, an ambulance, and two paramedics zoom into the parking lot. One of the chefs collapsed in the kitchen after eating his own lunch, and is carried out on a stretcher.

Expert’s Seal of Approval: Part 2

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I received quite a number of emails after yesterday’s post about traditional standards vs. “open” blogging.   Many of you applaud the growing democratization of the media through blogging.  But others respect the editorial and quality control of the traditional media.   Even though I read blogs every day that are as interesting as anything I see in newspapers and magazines, it would be hypocritical of me to dismiss the traditional media because, well, THEY PAY.  

Some bloggers ONLY BLOG as a way to get INTO the traditional media.   I love blogging for blogging’s sake, but if someone offered me an interesting writing job, I would not say, “Oh, I’m sorry.  I’m too busy writing my blog.”

Countless online “experts” want to tell you how you can make money through blogging.  I’m here to tell you that I know as little as they do.  Some bloggers use advertising to cover some costs, but blog ads can’t pay the bills, except maybe for a few bloggers, one whose name I will not mention.  So, despite my ranting post yesterday, the truth is that the “Expert’s Seal of Approval” is important after all — especially if you’re a blogger who wants to be noticed.  I know I got into blogging just for the hot women, but I realize that some of you have higher ambitions.

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A few weeks ago, I received an email inviting me to join Blogburst:

BlogBurst is a syndication service that places your blog content on top-tier online destinations. You get visibility, audience reach and increased traffic, while publishers get a wide range of new coverage to broaden their reach and increase page views.

How does it work?

Once you’re accepted into the BlogBurst network, just keep blogging as usual. Then, each time one of our publishers picks up your content, you’ll reach a whole new audience — and your byline link will drive traffic to your blog.

Their clients includes such big-wigs as the Washington Post and the Houston Chronicle.

I never actually applied to join, thinking that my conversations with my penis wasn’t really appropriate for the Style section of the Washington Post.  But I frequently read YOUR POSTS and say to myself, “This could be published.” 

Not always — let’s be honest. 

You’re not always at the top of your game, especially when you went out drinking the night before.  But sometimes.  Maybe it was a night of good sex or good pasta or good sleep, but whatever it was — it cleared your head and made you write a post that was incredibly insightful.

So, I throw this out to you if anyone wants to apply to this Blogburst.  I’m not exactly sure what their criteria is for approval or rejection.  This service is probably best for the blogger who writes about “issues,” and not the blogger who writes about her experience with her vibrator last night.

Two caveats: 

1)  I know very little about any of this.  Maybe, as she did with coComment last week, Supafine will try it first and report back.

2)  “BlogBurst charges publishers for this service. They do not share revenue with bloggers, although each post has a byline and attribution/link back to the blog. For most bloggers, this extra traffic and attention will be very welcome.” 

This means that you’re basically slave labor for Blogburst.  But at least you can tell your friends at your high school reunion that you “write” for the Washington Post.  Or it can help you make contacts.

What do you think?

There’s also another service called ScooptWords. 

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 According to mashable.com:

ScooptWords is a new service that aims to sell your blog content to print media. Scottish startup Scoopt was one of the first agencies to sell cellphone photos to media companies (along with SpyMedia), so the expansion to blog content makes sense. The move puts them in competition with BlogBurst, Pluck’s blog syndication service. But while Blogburst doesn’t currently compensate users (they will eventually), ScooptWords is paying contributors 50% of the first sale and 75% of subsequent sales.

Anyone smarter than me willing to read the fine print?

There are other ways that bloggers are trying to get the attention of the mainstream media.  Many are now acting like “real” writers (poets and novelists) and reading their work to the public.  I’m not sure how often I want to hear a blogger reading about “what she had for breakfast,” but these blogger shows are becoming popular.  There is already a show in New York City where bloggers read their work.  I’m sure someone will soon start something similar in blog-popular cities such as Washington D.C., Boston, Chicago, San Francisco, etc. 

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On Friday night, I’m going to see one of these shows in a Los Angeles theater – eight Los Angeles bloggers reading their favorite entries as a benefit for the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society.

• Paul Davidson
• AJ Gentile
• Carly Milne
• Shane Nickerson (who organized it)
• Annie Sertich
• Jessica Mae Stover
• Colleen Wainwright
• Wil Wheaton

I consider myself blogging-pals of the talented Pauly, Carly, and Colleen — and I’m excited to learn more about the others.    (note to Colleen:  please don’t talk about David Allen’s “Getting Things Done” the entire time!)

Friday, June 16th
7:30 PM
Improv Olympic
6366 Hollywood Boulevard
Hollywood, CA 90028

While reading your work to an audience sounds fun, there’s really only ONE sureshot way to make money from blogging.  Yes, I’m talking about PokerStars.com World Blogger Championship of Online Poker.   (also via Nickerblog)

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Because of Sophia’s obsession with Texas Hold-em, I’ve now watched countless hours of the pros playing on TV.   I expect to kick some serious blogger ass. 

A Year Ago in Citizen of the Month:  More Kids: Part 2

Expert’s Seal of Approval

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Today I had lunch with Miriam, an old college friend from my undergrad days at Columbia. She now has a PhD in Art History and is a curator at a major New York museum. She’s a great person, but she can also be a little snooty. But that’s OK. I like snooty. We haven’t seen each other in a few years, so we spent the meal catching up with each other.

Towards the middle of the meal, I suddenly blurted out, “Oh, I almost forgot one of the most interesting things going on in my life. I started a blog last year! And now I have all these people who come and read it every day!”

Her response was, “Why in the world would anyone want to read YOU?”

Now I know this sounds insulting. But I didn’t take it like that at all.  I knew exactly where she was coming from — academia. She has been taught the importance of cultural standards — the “great books” and the “great works of art.” In her world, only someone canonized by an authority is worthy of someone’s time. That’s why the paintings of August Renoir are studied in art history classes. The paintings of Tony Curtis are not.

This is a pretty common way of seeing things. I know many people who will not read a book unless it was already well-reviewed in the New York Times. Otherwise, what’s the point of reading it?

“I don’t get blogging at all, Miriam said. “If I wanted to read something interesting, why not read “War and Peace” instead of your blog?”

For a second, I sat there and thought, “You know, that’s not a stupid question. Why should I read Retropolitan‘s latest blog post when I could be reading “War and Peace?”

Of course, in my case, blogging hasn’t replaced my time reading “War and Peace.” It has replaced my time watching “The Apprentice” and socializing with real live human beings. But, I could be reading me some Tolstoy! Maybe Sophia could even read it to me in the original Russian!

Yeah, but then I would have to take Sophia away from watching her “24.”

But I do get where Miriam is coming from. I studied “the liberal arts” in college and grad school. But despite the years you put in, you’re never treated with the same authority as a doctor or a lawyer. Miriam told me that being a museum curator can be frustrating, because everyone thinks her job is mostly about placing the frames on the wall. I’ve heard similar complaints from web designers, where clients think they can just have their daughter do the job for free because she knows a little HTML.”

So, unless you go to law or business school, the only real pleasure you can get out of your expensive liberal arts degree is lording it over everyone about how smart you are.

Now that I’ve finally read half of one book by David Sedaris, I bring him up all the time in conversation.

“You mean you haven’t read David Sedaris?” I say, snickering.

It feels good to be part of the cultured class. I remember coming home during my freshman year in college and scolding my mother, “How can you read these trashy novels when you should be reading Plato’s Symposium instead!”

Almost all my friends from college now work as members of this cultured class –publishing, media, television, etc… the arbiters and critics of what we should watch, see, buy, and read.

But the internet is screwing things up.

The academic world does not prepare you to think of a housewife in Ohio as a “writer” or a blogger/fireman as having anything interesting to say. No one expect two teenagers from Taiwan to make a compelling video and put it on YouTube. Hey, they didn’t even go to NYU Film School!

I actually love this democratization of the media.  And I get something from blogging that I can’t get from a novel.  I can’t interact with Tolstoy.  And as long as I wait, he’s never going to write a snarky comment back on my blog, acknowledging my existence  — although he will probably do it before Dooce does. 

But many find the growth of the individual blogger as scary, especially those who already work in the media. Is a newspaper columnist really that much more interesting than some political blogger — other than the fact that one gets paid and the other doesn’t?  Should we depend on cultural arbiters to decide what is considered “worthy” of our time, or should we let the “American Idol” spirit of “Hey, let’s vote on the next superstar!” be the new ideal? And if everyone considers themselves a creative writer, videographer, cultural critic, etc. – what happens to the experts? Does what they say still count?  Or could a housewife’s blog be as worthy reading material as something published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux?

So, the answer to Miriam’s question to me, “Why in the world would anyone want to read YOU?” is obvious.

It’s shorter than “War and Peace.”

P.S. —

Immediately after writing this, Sophia tore apart my entire argument. She said that it’s human nature for people to want an “expert” to show them what to read, watch, and “what NOT to wear.” Look at the home design “experts” on TV. Look at all the “expert” advice given in magazines.  Look at all the blogging sites telling you what blog to read. 

Sophia even told me about this new ABC show, How to Get the Guy, where “love coaches,” will help single women meet men.

Teresa Strasser is one of love coaches,” she said, knowing that she is on my short list of cute Jewish brunettes who appear on television.

“Oh, yeah?” I said, my eyes widening.  “Didn’t she used to be a home design expert on another show?  And a fashion expert on another show?”

“She must be very educated,” Sophia joked.  “But what makes this single woman a love coach? If anyone should be a love coach, it should be my mother. She’s been married for forty years!”

Sophia gave me one example after another of how Americans love to take advice from experts — even if these experts don’t know any more than anyone else.   Look how one word from Oprah can make a book an instant bestseller.  Or how people wait in line to hear advice from “experts” at seminars.

“Hmmm…..,” I thought to myself as Sophia spoke…

P.P.S. —

Announcing:  (from the producers of BlogHim)

Meeting Hot Women Through Blogging

A Three Day Seminar by blogging and relationship expert Neil Kramer

July 14-15-16

The Valley Inn
Ventura Boulevard (adjacent to Burbank Bowling Alley)
Burbank, CA

Cost: $4000

Special for readers of “Citizen of the Month”: $4500

Single women and previous “blog crushes of the day”: Free!

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Online Dating Works for Some

Blogging Talk #2

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I remember when I started blogging, I promised myself that I would never write about “blogging.” Could there be a subject more boring? God help us when the first movie about bloggers comes out. The studios love to make movies about current trends (breakdancing movies, anyone?) Warner Bros., please don’t make a blogging movie with Reese Witherspoon as a young blogger who falls in love with blah blah blah!

Unfortunately for you, the more I blog, the more I’ve become interested in the actual subject matter of blogging.

So, here are three weekend blogging thoughts, sort of a sequel to my earlier post on blogging tools:

1)

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What are these banner things? I’ve been blogging for more than a year, and I’m still not sure what most of these banners are for. Question for those who are involved in these groups:

“Does anyone actually come to your site from “Blog Universe” or “Blogtopsites?””

Blogarama? Blogwise? Bloggernity? Blogstreet? What the hell is all this crap? Frankly, I don’t trust any button that blinks on and off. And if you want more readers, isn’t it easier to just steal contacts from other blogrolls?

So, what’s the buzz, are any of these groups worth joining?

2)

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Let’s talk about readership. Recently I got an email from a new blogger saying how lucky I was that I had all these readers. While I’m honored (I mean truly honored) to have people come to my site, I was just as happy when I had three readers. In fact, too many bloggers around makes me anxious. I’m trying to be creative. Who needs all these other “creative” people hanging around making me feel insecure?

My biggest problem is that I enjoy writing. That means I’m like a hermit. I’m not used to interacting with hot blogging babes all the way from Indonesia! There’s just too many cool bloggers out there to meet and talk with. It all begins to feels like a huge party where you’re supposed to circulate yourself from person to person, making chit-chat. I’m terrible at parties. I usually talk to one person all night. I’m the type a guy who meets a woman, and stays married to her for nine years until she throws me out. I’ve already written about my total disinterest in ever having a menage a trois. Dealing with one woman is hard enough. I struggle sometimes making blogging a more intimate experience for me and for my bloggers-friends. Sometimes I wish for more interaction other than snippy comments back and forth. Maybe it’s just asking too much from blogging. It is what it is.

I recently moved my entire blogroll to a separate page and started doing a “Crush of the Day.” This has greatly lessened my anxiety. I can make believe that I’m having coffee and bagels with just one person at a cool diner, rather than in the middle of a wild party with drunken bloggers taking their tops off. I mean, that could be fun too, but NOT every day.

3)

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One problem I’m always having while blogging is remembering where I commented on. For instance, let’s create this scenario:

Sam writes a post about his beloved grandmother. I read his post and love it. I write this comment:

“Hey, Sam, your grandmother sounds cool. How old is she now?”

Sam is impressed that I cared about his grandmother. He writes a long comment all about his wonderful grandmother. And you know what — I forget to go back. I completely forget that I wrote that question. Sam notices in his stats that I never came back. He starts bad-mouthing me to every blogger in town, saying, “Neilochka is a lying phony asshole who hates my grandmother!.” My reputation gets ruined.

A few days ago, I came across two free online applications that follow your comments, so you can keep track of where you have been — Cocomment (review) and Co.mments (review). They sound like they could be useful. But I’m pretty slow in trying new things out (I still don’t have an iPod), so I mention this, hoping that some geeky guy like Kevin will try it out first and report back. The only bad thing about these “comment” followers is that, like with the cellphone, there’s no more excuses anymore for not answering back.

I will actually have to care about your boring grandmother.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Russian Porn: First We Shovel Snow

The Buddy System

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Back in my single days, I liked to entertain a woman on a first date with this little trick. After dinner, as we walked hand-in-hand in the crisp night air, I would take off my shirt and ask her to bounce a quarter off of my chest. Women would be amazed as the quarter would spring off the tautness of my muscles and fly 150 feet away.

This afternoon, I was in Staples buying an ink-jet refill, when I found a quarter on the floor. For old-times sake, I asked this cheerful mother of two (buying colored construction paper for her adorable little girl — hello, Rachel!) if she would bounce the quarter off of my bare chest. She happily agreed, and as her two daughters looked on, she threw the quarter against my body. While the mother was very impressed with the result — the quarter flew smack into the middle of faraway aisle 12 (“Digital Media”), I was very disappointed that the quarter only went 75 feet. This meant only one thing — it was time for me to go back to the gym.

The only problem is that I don’t like going to the gym. It is BORING! I’m also a major procrastinator. When I try to do something I really don’t want to do it, I find a million reasons to put it off. For instance:

Neil 1: “I thought about going to the gym tonight.”

Neil 2: “But whoops, I just ate”

Neil 1: “Maybe later. ”

Neil 2: “Oh, I’m sorry. I have to wash some towels later.”

Neil 1: “How about after that? ”

Neil 2: “Hey, isn’t playing with yourself considered exercise? I’ll do that instead!”

Remember, I live in Los Angeles. Being in the best shape is very important here, especially in the summer. Showing off your body is actually SO important to Angelenos that law firms in Century City now allow their partners to come in wearing bathing suits and bikinis during the summer months.

I need help with this gym thing. And here’s where YOU come in.

A week ago, I was reading a post by the charming Caitlin at Caitlinator. She was writing about how she was avoiding writing some resumes. I instantly related, because I just happen to procrastinate on writing resumes as much as I do about going to the gym. I wrote a comment to her, joking that we should make sure the other wrote ten resumes this week. If one of us didn’t, we’d have to pay the other ten bucks. I completely forgot about this “deal” until today. And you know what? — it’s not a bad idea!

Think about how much easier it is to write your blog posts than any of your “regular” writing. That’s because you know that someone — even if it is a crazy stranger living thousands of miles away — is reading your blog. We’re always motivated by others!.

So, I’m looking for a virtual exercise buddy for the next week. Just one week to see if it works — and get us both started. This person should be someone as lazy as me. He/she should hate going to the gym.

This is the deal: We each go to our gym, or exercise in some other way — let’s say twice this week — nothing too over-the-top. By the end of the week, if one of us fails to accomplish the mission, the loser has to:

1) Write a post humiliating yourself in front of the world.
2) Buy your buddy a CD of his/her choice.
3) Donate twenty bucks to some cancer research charity.

I think the fear of humiliation alone will make us exercise.

Anyone want to be my buddy?

A Year Ago in Citizen of the Month:  My Date with Rob and Kai.

Promoting My Blog

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Recent Conversation:

Woman:  So, do you know Danny from work?

Neil:  No, I met him through my blog.   And did you work with Danny?

Woman:  No, no.  I work at UCLA.  I manage their career center.

Neil:  Oh, really?  So, how’s the job market this year?

Woman:  Really good.  But I’m always talking to the students about their blogs.

Neil:  Why’s that?

Woman:  Well, several companies have rescinded their offers of employment because they Googled some students’ names and found all sorts of salacious and immature material on their blogs. 

Neil:  Well, they’re just young students!  That doesn’t seem fair…

Woman:  Even so.  Companies want responsible employees.  They consider the employee to be the "face of the company."   You can’t imagine some of the ridiculous stuff these students publish on their blogs.  And then these kids put their REAL NAME out there.  Don’t they realize that every HUMAN RESOUCE department Googles a prospective employee’s name?!

Neil:  Hmmm…  (thinking:  This woman has small, but nicely-shaped tits).

Woman:  …but these are mostly stupid blogs of kids, not intelligent material like Danny’s… and yours.  What did you say your blog was named again?  I’d like to take a look…?

Neil:  Arts and Letters Daily

In the Doghouse

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Because of the last two posts, which contain elements of real events and private conversations that I was not supposed to uh, blab about online, I am temporarily living in the doghouse.  Unfortunately, my doghouse does not have internet access, so this will probably be my last post of the day.   Thank you to all who commented on the earlier post, which has mysteriously disappeared from the blogosphere.

It was great having lunch with you today, Liz.

And Happy Easter to all.

I’m going back into the doghouse.   Please send blankets.

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