Actually, to be more specific, it's due to the letters J, e, and n. You see, I was recently introduced to The Bloggess (Jenny) by Cake Wrecks (Jen) and as they say "the rest is history" now I am feeling kinda obsessed/stalkerish because I have been reading through her entire blog starting at the very beginning. (I also did this when I first discovered Cake Wrecks and Hyperbole and a Half because I'm a sucker for well written and humorous blogs.) It was when I hit a Bloggess post in August of 2007 that I saw something that made me want to write; her post about naked blogging. It's totally not what you think, unless maybe you're an asexual therapist or something and you're used to referring to the unguarded sharing of thoughts and feelings as "naked."
Now, I am sure that, especially with a brand new blog like my own, any longs posts will almost immediately turn off anyone who stumbles upon it. (TLDR) But, this is actually a shortened version of what I wrote with the thought that maybe I should send it to The Bloggess, until I realized that her solicitation for stories back then was something she could relatively easily handle yet now it wouldn't be much more effective than farting in a windstorm. (I can mention farting because I'm classy and shit.)
Here is my "love letter" to the Bloggess:
I know this is something you asked for in a long ago blog and likely have little time and or interest in such a thing anymore. Right now you’re basically at a point where to me you’re Amy Sedaris and I’m not even where you were back when you wrote her that love letter and then blogged about it. I haven’t worked up the courage to try a blog of my own. I tell myself that I don’t have the time and patience to build it up and that I have never been the type to get people interested and excited about anything I do, so any time I put in would be wasted anyhow. Then I swing back the other way and rather than letting my fear of failure get to me I remind myself that there are people whom I would rather not let know anything about how my life is going, as if I would be guaranteed at least a modicum of success were I to even try my hand at making people laugh on a much grander scale than the few people I currently allow into my world.
Then I remember that most of my husband’s family is at least semi-religious and several of them are very devout and could I really risk them seeing something I posted and finding out it was me that wrote it and still be able to look them in the face? Yeah, I’m one of those wussies who has no problem walking around the house practically shouting “vagina” all apropos of nothing (mostly for their own amusement even though the hubby sometimes gets a kick out of it as well) but then blushes and tries to cover it up when caught swearing in front of her in-laws. But, there is just something so compelling about the naked blogging idea. I was introduced to your blog through another Jen (Cake Wrecks & Epbot) linking to your post about Beyoncé. When I find something I like enough I go back and start at the beginning to satisfy my OCD nature and because I like to see how people grow and change and come into their own. I like to think that someday it could be me, much akin to how I like to figure out what I would do with lottery winnings even though I rarely ever buy lotto tickets. (rare = 1 in 10 yrs.)
(I edited out nearly 500 words here, you're welcome...and no, it's not because I ramble too much when writing, I just didn't want to waste Jenny's time should she magically end up reading this somehow and be all like "Damn, this bitch needs to learn how to tell a story without going on and on, lady, who gives a fuck?")
I’m good at starting things, terrible at finishing them. I have an associate’s degree, but when I started in at bachelor’s level courses I decided it wasn’t for me and dropped out. There are so many hobbies and interests I hold that I haven’t done much with in a long time because I am just too afraid to do poorly at them and thus “waste my time.” Instead I spend time online searching, for what I don’t even really know. I’m like a fountain pen that has been slowly filling up for years…being held by a writer who is scared to just stop for a minute and start writing already.
I'm guessing by this point you're not so sure I should have finally grown a pair and started writing; congratulations, I'm not so sure either!
See, we totally have something in common!
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