Blogoholic

Somewhere around the time I got married, I quit trying to keep up with what was cool. Around the time I had Maya, I was very uncool and in addition to my uncoolness, I also had no idea what was going on in the world. I didn't know what bands were "in" or "out", I wasn't quite sure how to use MySpace, and I still don't use text messaging on my phone. Now, years after its inception, I have finally learned how to blog.

One would think blogging was very simple. You write about your life and blah blah blah...it is basically an online journal. Well, it is nice to write about your life, but it isn't nice that only two of your friends actually reads what you write. In my case, one of the two is my own husband and the other one is me.

Ah, but, much like Ego Surfing (a.k.a. "Googling" one's own name), the blog does give a little boost to the old self image. You find out that some of your friends have blogs and they put a link to you on their blog. That brings my total up to five. You get comments on occasion and then you begin to feel like maybe you are writing to an actual audience. You write more often, check your counter a couple of times a day (or a dozen) and tweak your blog incessantly.

Now, I'm reading other blogs...getting ideas...learning what not to do... finding blog 'groups'...learning things about others before I actually meet them in person (a.k.a. stalking)... and I find myself wasting hours at a time on blogs...that link to other blogs...that link to... What? It's already 3 am? I don't have a problem. I promise, it's totally under control. I can quit blogging at any time...cold turkey.