Excitement (for me at least)
I have recently recieved proof, in the form of several comments, that other people are seeing this blog. In fact, there are at least 2, possibly 3 people who have read my blambles.
Now, for the non-blogger this may seem like no big deal. after all, "aren't these blogs put up to be read?" asks the non-blogger. Certainly, there is always the chance that they will be read. Otherwise, why post at all? But for me, at least, that's not the driving force. More on that in a second.
The point is, the one that I started making and will now continue, that I have been read. People, complete strangers even, have found my words moving enough to respond. Now maybe this is politeness. Maybe blogging is a disease and once you start typing you have to type everywhere. Or maybe, we aren't alone in the world. (That last one may be a bit of a stretch from point A to point 6,734 but it's one I'm willing to make.)
Regardless of the reason, it's exciting to know that this is more than just typing to myself.
Of course, I'd always hoped it would be more than typing to myself (this is getting to that whole reason thing). I started my blog for a couple of reasons.
But the all-encompassing, awe-inspiring, all-powerful reason is me. I want to make myself. Not discover, make.
It really began on my 26th birthday. The first truly meaningless birthday. Explanation: birthdays always count when your a kid, they're still new. Then you hit thirteen and youre almost a teenager. Then it's just a few years to sixteen (or fifteen in New Mexico, Maine and a few other states) which means driving! Okay, 18 = adulthood. 19 means it's almost the end of the teens. At 20 you've survived two decades, you can more or less take care of yourself. Do I really have to mention the allure of 21? drinking whatever, wehenever. The early 20s kind of dwindle in importance until 25, which means cheap car insurance (hey, that stuff's expensive). And then? What's next? Don't tell me thirty, because by thirty you're beginning to feel old and mark time. It's just one more decade piled on. Really, 50 is kind of a landmark (terms like century can now come into play), but not really something most people look forward to. Retirement is no longer a set age, though the Senior discounts at 60-something are a draw to some. Really, birthdays just aren't as much fun after 25.
So, at 26 I realized it was time to re-examine me. I wasn't going to settle for being a mere collection of my memories and experiences. I was going to examine my world, compare it to other people's worlds. Re-examine my beliefs, perhaps scrap them and choose the ones I liked. It was time to take all the lessons I'd learned, the things I'd done, what I'd been told and what I'd made up and put it in nice neat piles and choose waht I wanted to keep. Kind of like making a trip to Goodwill, but for the soul (or whatever it is that thinks - hyperintelligent mice, sentient shades of green, robots, ghosts, whatever).
And you know what friends and neighbors? That just isn't easy. First off, the cat kept jumping up on the table and knowcking over the piles. And then, what do I want to keep? I immediately threw out religion. It just never made sense anyway. I'd find God (or green/Mr. robot/Casper/whatever) my own way. done. But what about the other things? Am I embarassed to admit to watching the OC and the WB because I think they're uncool, or because people tell me they're uncool? (they probably are uncool, but the jury's still out) Why do I think choclate tastes good? (still working on that one, but I like it so it stayed) Am I for gay marriage becuase it's politically correct, or because I actually support it?(well, that one was easy, I actually support it) And why do I insist on putting my jeans on one leg at a time? Practicallity or habit?
These questions are chosen in part for their humor value (a favored mode of communication that will stay with the new me), but also because they were all I could think of on short notice. But I did have many real questions, and I still do.
And I had only one answer. 42... no, wait, that's a book. the only answer was this blog. A chance to explore how I see the world and, hopefully, see how others see how I see the world (or something like that).
and that's why I'm so excited. So, to any readers: thank you. And a special thank you to Spider and Laura, the first two to enter my world. (Um, hope that it isn't a total faux pas to thank people for commenting in your blog. If it is, well, maybe I should examine that too).
Now, for the non-blogger this may seem like no big deal. after all, "aren't these blogs put up to be read?" asks the non-blogger. Certainly, there is always the chance that they will be read. Otherwise, why post at all? But for me, at least, that's not the driving force. More on that in a second.
The point is, the one that I started making and will now continue, that I have been read. People, complete strangers even, have found my words moving enough to respond. Now maybe this is politeness. Maybe blogging is a disease and once you start typing you have to type everywhere. Or maybe, we aren't alone in the world. (That last one may be a bit of a stretch from point A to point 6,734 but it's one I'm willing to make.)
Regardless of the reason, it's exciting to know that this is more than just typing to myself.
Of course, I'd always hoped it would be more than typing to myself (this is getting to that whole reason thing). I started my blog for a couple of reasons.
But the all-encompassing, awe-inspiring, all-powerful reason is me. I want to make myself. Not discover, make.
It really began on my 26th birthday. The first truly meaningless birthday. Explanation: birthdays always count when your a kid, they're still new. Then you hit thirteen and youre almost a teenager. Then it's just a few years to sixteen (or fifteen in New Mexico, Maine and a few other states) which means driving! Okay, 18 = adulthood. 19 means it's almost the end of the teens. At 20 you've survived two decades, you can more or less take care of yourself. Do I really have to mention the allure of 21? drinking whatever, wehenever. The early 20s kind of dwindle in importance until 25, which means cheap car insurance (hey, that stuff's expensive). And then? What's next? Don't tell me thirty, because by thirty you're beginning to feel old and mark time. It's just one more decade piled on. Really, 50 is kind of a landmark (terms like century can now come into play), but not really something most people look forward to. Retirement is no longer a set age, though the Senior discounts at 60-something are a draw to some. Really, birthdays just aren't as much fun after 25.
So, at 26 I realized it was time to re-examine me. I wasn't going to settle for being a mere collection of my memories and experiences. I was going to examine my world, compare it to other people's worlds. Re-examine my beliefs, perhaps scrap them and choose the ones I liked. It was time to take all the lessons I'd learned, the things I'd done, what I'd been told and what I'd made up and put it in nice neat piles and choose waht I wanted to keep. Kind of like making a trip to Goodwill, but for the soul (or whatever it is that thinks - hyperintelligent mice, sentient shades of green, robots, ghosts, whatever).
And you know what friends and neighbors? That just isn't easy. First off, the cat kept jumping up on the table and knowcking over the piles. And then, what do I want to keep? I immediately threw out religion. It just never made sense anyway. I'd find God (or green/Mr. robot/Casper/whatever) my own way. done. But what about the other things? Am I embarassed to admit to watching the OC and the WB because I think they're uncool, or because people tell me they're uncool? (they probably are uncool, but the jury's still out) Why do I think choclate tastes good? (still working on that one, but I like it so it stayed) Am I for gay marriage becuase it's politically correct, or because I actually support it?(well, that one was easy, I actually support it) And why do I insist on putting my jeans on one leg at a time? Practicallity or habit?
These questions are chosen in part for their humor value (a favored mode of communication that will stay with the new me), but also because they were all I could think of on short notice. But I did have many real questions, and I still do.
And I had only one answer. 42... no, wait, that's a book. the only answer was this blog. A chance to explore how I see the world and, hopefully, see how others see how I see the world (or something like that).
and that's why I'm so excited. So, to any readers: thank you. And a special thank you to Spider and Laura, the first two to enter my world. (Um, hope that it isn't a total faux pas to thank people for commenting in your blog. If it is, well, maybe I should examine that too).
posted by Chris at 3:56 PM
1 Comments:
It's never bad manners to thank someone! And it's always refreshing to know that other people are actually thinking out there... And I know how you feel. My roommate told me that one of her friends in Texas checks in on mine every once in a while. It's kind of scary that people actually stumble in on purpose and read my random ramblings... I mean, we all like to think that our thoughts are so wonderfully insightful that they should be published, but they're usually not. It still makes me feel better to pretty them up and kick them out into the street so some new ideas can come in and dirty up the household. I'm using my blog as a quick and digital Trapper Keeper of thoughts. It’s so much easier to write a little bit about an idea than to craft a short story or an actual plot-based work. Besides, I love New York!
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