it's funny. i just looked at what i wrote about a year ago on here, which was, essentially, "life is kicking me in the ass."
and guess what life has been doing to me lately? yep.
but at least things are better now than they were last March fifteenth. for instance, i'm getting money back from the government this year rather than relying on my father to keep me from being hauled away by the IRS; there are no looming lay-offs at my company—i actually have a ridiculous amount of work to do (mostly self-inflicted, because you can never been too indispensible!); i just visited my Gram yesterday and she's clever and feisty as ever; and i am not currently, thank gawd, planning a wedding.
i am, however, fed up with blogs at the moment. that's part of why i haven't been writing. i've been thinking lately: who the eff cares? seriously, who cares what i have to say? i'm nobody! i started this thing three-plus years ago because my dad kept nagging me and a few friends mentioned it and i thought it would be good to have another writing outlet. back then blogs were hardly new—there were plenty to go around—but not nearly as annoyingly ubiquitous as they are today.
i skimmed an article in the Times yesterday about mommy-bloggers and i couldn't even get to the end. just using the term "mommy-bloggers" gives me the creeps. those two words connected by a hyphen, to me, signify everything that is horribly wrong with our country right now.
i used to think i was jealous of the people who made money from blogging—who got eight million hits a day and sold ads on their site and got book deals and made appearances Oprah. as recently as a few months ago i thought perhaps i could tweak my site somehow, increase my traffic, bolster some attention for my writing via my blog. i could be famous too! even worse, i felt competitive, that i shouldn't be so blasé about this thing—that if i wasn't writing often enough or about the right things, i was failing.
thankfully, i've come to my senses. and i know for sure that i'm not jealous, nor do i care how much traffic i get. mostly because: i don't want to be one of those people.
almost everything i write about here is silly, ridiculous, meaningless, trivial, fleeting and/or useless. i'm well aware of this and i'm okay with it. i basically have a compulsion to write. i just have to get it out sometimes and, oh! here's a place where my friends and family can read my blatherings about life if they so please, thus saving me from writing fifty individual e-mails. end of story.
i don't want to be famous because of a blog. i don't care how many hits a day i get. i don't want random strangers insulting me in the comments section because i'm not writing this for you, jerk-face. you don't like me? stop reading!
anyway.
i'm undecided about what to do with this blog, if anything. i have a love-hate relationship with it at the moment. i have to wait and see which emotion wins out.
mbm
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