The other day I was trying to explain to Pudding* why I blog. She kept asking me if it was so I could complain and people could subscribe to my complaints. Being the introspective person that I am, I couldn't just say, "no, of course not!" then explain in clear and concise words why I blog… cuz I don't actually know why I do. It's always changing, my reasons for why I write any given post are always different.
The point of writing this post is to say: It smells like bacon here. That is not a complaint.
*Pudding is Dawg's ex, mother of The Wolves. I know, it's hard to keep up. It gets easier if you live it.
"When I reach 1000, maybe I should stop commenting forever."
Too bad he's not commenting anymore or else he could totally answer the question: "Would you like a cake for this achievement?" (He loves cake.) So, instead, a classic video:
Last night Dawg asked me to guest post on his blog today so that's where I posted. I've been wanting to chronicle the Squishable family for a while now, and here was the perfect opportunity to do so.
Please go visit Dawg's blog for the story. Thank you!
Greetings and salutations, old friends and soon-to-be-friends. I'm guest posting today over at Karl's blog. Please stop over and join the LL2HK party. Thanks!
A) that a lot of (but not all) people scan through my long posts rather than savoring every word LIKE I DO THEIR POSTS.
B) that bloggers who complain about people not reading their posts in their entirety before leaving a comment should note they do the same damn thing.
C) argh.
D) that I was apparently bitchy from not eating until 1:15pm.
E) that I'm never writing that much in one post again.
F) there I go being bitchy again.
G) you still love me when I'm bitchy, right?
H) of course you do.
I) it's time to step away from the computer.
J) bye.
I'm taking a blogosphere break until further notice.
If I don't tell you I'm doing this you'll wonder if I'm ok after a day of no posts.
If I do tell you I'm doing this you'll wonder why I'm doing this.
Lose-lose.
It boils down to me not having time for made up drama or real drama that is upsetting me so badly I'm sitting here shaking in my seat I'm so angry, even after talking to my best girlfriend, my co-worker, and my mom about it.
I have shit to get done. I'm off to do that shit.
Moving on! Feel free to email me about your day, the price of gasoline, how much you love your significant other's ears, what scares you about being in the dark, what your favorite color is, how much you enjoyed that summer movie blockbuster, what you had for dinner, and I'll gladly have an email exchange with you. Deal? Deal.
Unconditional friendship freaks me out, but in a good way. It's not something I ever had before blogging, except with Break Boy and His Lovely Wife, although I didn't understand that I had that with them until I started experiencing it in the blogosphere. Now that I have it with many of you I get overwhelmed by your generosity…
…in a comment.
…in a post.
…in offering to listen to me vent.
…in confiding in me when you need to vent.
…in inviting me to do something with you if I'm in town.
…in offering to do something for me that I'm incapable of or insecure about doing for myself.
…in giving me [presents/presents-that-are-not-presents ;) ].
…in teaching me new things about life I never really knew about before.
…in giving me virtual and real hugs.
You're my support system. Thanks for that.
Now I'm gonna go do stuff on my own in the big scary world, but take you with me in my heart.
Back when life was dull I used to comment on every blog I read. I don't do that anymore because of time and because, well, if I don't have something halfway decent to say then I just don't bother to do that. I used to feel guilty about not leaving comments to let people know I'm reading their blog, but "one time in band camp" someone posted a comment on someone's site that I sure did comment a lot, and then she quickly put up a post on her own blog that said anyone who comments on every post just for the sake of commenting is a comment whore. Two plus two and all that. I wasn't trying to be a comment whore, I was fulfilling a sense of obligation to the blog author, but… I don't owe comments, just like you don't owe me posts, so I'm all done with that feeling.
I lurk at a lot of blogs now, and often times I'll write stupid comments in the comment box, but then close the window without submitting it. So, for your sake, instead of being paranoid that you're the one person on the planet that reminds me of the (other) one person on the planet who sends me into an instant rage how about you assume I'm lurking on your blog and things are fine between us? Or, ya know, check your stats and see if I'm visiting, because I'm guessing you're all brain surgeons who can figure out where France really is in relation to NYC.
Questions? Concerns? Leave me a comment. (BWAHAHAHA! Ha. See, I'm funny too.)
