Secret Confessions
Want to hear something kind of sad? The website I check most is my own blog.
Pitiful.
But see, there are these links on the right hand side that tell me when my favorite blogs have updated. It's awesome. I also like to see if anyone commented, because I'm a comment groupie. And I read back through my most recent blogs to see how many typos I made or if I sound more stupid than I thought.
It's pathetic.
I don't keep a journal. I have tried, over the years, to keep one. But after a week or so of religious journaling I fizzle out. It is pretty entertaining to look back at the blocks of time contained in my journals. Inevitably my entries start out with "I'm going to try keeping a journal AGAIN." So, these days my journal keeping is basically contained here...for all of you to read.
That's pretty nuts, I agree.
Last night I was thinking about writing a post to Josh. And I thought to myself: why are you publicly writing a letter to your son instead of giving him his own letter? Huh, huh, HUH? Well, I answered to myself, because giving him a real letter right now would be like giving him a glass of water. He'd drink it but he just wouldn't really care that much. He's just not thirsty. I do have some letters stored away in his keepsake box that are sealed up and waiting for him to grow up. I hope, somewhat selfishly, that he reads them when his kids are born and gets the warm fuzzies. But, I haven't written to him on a piece of paper in a long time.
I suppose I am counting on blogger to store this stuff all up for me and then when Josh and Carly are old enough to care, they can look back and laugh at me, with me, and at themselves and appreciate that I appreciated them. It's not really the smartest plan, depending on blogger never to go offline, but for now it's all I've got. I'm thinking there must be some kind of service that turns your blogs into a book or something. If there isn't, I totally call that idea as mine.
Other secret confessions:
I've discovered that there are a gazillion great blogs out there and I spend a good portion of my day browsing them. I'm a total lurker, it's an illness. I've added a few of these blogs to my blogroll, like My Super Hopeless Romance. I'm totally caught up in it. This girl's blog reads more like a novel than a blog. Again, the book thing, I call it if it doesn't exist. I'm sure it exists, I'm just being cautious. You know, for posterity's sake and all.
I love comments. I read a really fun post on another blog about the 5 languages of blogging. She talked about the ego driven need of bloggers to receive comments. She was totally right. I lament over my lack of comments because either that means people really are only here for the pictures of the cute kids (I KNEW IT!) or I'm just not interesting enough to illicit a response. Did I use illicit right? Fortunately, my sister sends me emails from time to time about my blog. She's quite possibly the greatest sister in the world though so her kindness is not wholly surprising. She's been there for my whole life, patting my ego simply because she loves me. That means you can blame her for my need for feedback. I'm the youngest, it can't possibly be my own fault that I am this way.
I take pictures of random stuff around my house because it might potentially be used in a blog. Stuff like this:
This picture was part of a potential blog about things in my living room that cost $25 or less. We got it at a garage sale, and it's a real painting with paint on it. I even googled the artist, A. Pope, but didn't find any interesting results. My $25 painting isn't a long lost super valuable painting that will seal my fortune but I still love it. I took the picture before we decided where to hang it up. Eventually I hung the painting on the wall above our couch.
My final secret confession:
I wish I was a dot com.
State of Obvious dot com is so much easier to remember than my current url. But, I'm too cheap to do something about it.
Pitiful.
But see, there are these links on the right hand side that tell me when my favorite blogs have updated. It's awesome. I also like to see if anyone commented, because I'm a comment groupie. And I read back through my most recent blogs to see how many typos I made or if I sound more stupid than I thought.
It's pathetic.
I don't keep a journal. I have tried, over the years, to keep one. But after a week or so of religious journaling I fizzle out. It is pretty entertaining to look back at the blocks of time contained in my journals. Inevitably my entries start out with "I'm going to try keeping a journal AGAIN." So, these days my journal keeping is basically contained here...for all of you to read.
That's pretty nuts, I agree.
Last night I was thinking about writing a post to Josh. And I thought to myself: why are you publicly writing a letter to your son instead of giving him his own letter? Huh, huh, HUH? Well, I answered to myself, because giving him a real letter right now would be like giving him a glass of water. He'd drink it but he just wouldn't really care that much. He's just not thirsty. I do have some letters stored away in his keepsake box that are sealed up and waiting for him to grow up. I hope, somewhat selfishly, that he reads them when his kids are born and gets the warm fuzzies. But, I haven't written to him on a piece of paper in a long time.
I suppose I am counting on blogger to store this stuff all up for me and then when Josh and Carly are old enough to care, they can look back and laugh at me, with me, and at themselves and appreciate that I appreciated them. It's not really the smartest plan, depending on blogger never to go offline, but for now it's all I've got. I'm thinking there must be some kind of service that turns your blogs into a book or something. If there isn't, I totally call that idea as mine.
Other secret confessions:
I've discovered that there are a gazillion great blogs out there and I spend a good portion of my day browsing them. I'm a total lurker, it's an illness. I've added a few of these blogs to my blogroll, like My Super Hopeless Romance. I'm totally caught up in it. This girl's blog reads more like a novel than a blog. Again, the book thing, I call it if it doesn't exist. I'm sure it exists, I'm just being cautious. You know, for posterity's sake and all.
I love comments. I read a really fun post on another blog about the 5 languages of blogging. She talked about the ego driven need of bloggers to receive comments. She was totally right. I lament over my lack of comments because either that means people really are only here for the pictures of the cute kids (I KNEW IT!) or I'm just not interesting enough to illicit a response. Did I use illicit right? Fortunately, my sister sends me emails from time to time about my blog. She's quite possibly the greatest sister in the world though so her kindness is not wholly surprising. She's been there for my whole life, patting my ego simply because she loves me. That means you can blame her for my need for feedback. I'm the youngest, it can't possibly be my own fault that I am this way.
I take pictures of random stuff around my house because it might potentially be used in a blog. Stuff like this:
This picture was part of a potential blog about things in my living room that cost $25 or less. We got it at a garage sale, and it's a real painting with paint on it. I even googled the artist, A. Pope, but didn't find any interesting results. My $25 painting isn't a long lost super valuable painting that will seal my fortune but I still love it. I took the picture before we decided where to hang it up. Eventually I hung the painting on the wall above our couch.
My final secret confession:
I wish I was a dot com.
State of Obvious dot com is so much easier to remember than my current url. But, I'm too cheap to do something about it.
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