September 19th, 2008
UPDATED TO ADD:
I am working on ordering you all roses and a chocolate fountain, but meanwhile, thanks for your kind comments and general awesomeness.
As is my way, I’m suffering a blogging crisis. I’ve been evaluating and reviewing and comparing and ACK! I hate when I do that.
Anyway, I was thinking no one cares about my face peel, or my workload or my this or my that or me, me, me! And why don’t I write more about charitable causes? What’s wrong with me? I’m so selfish. I like charity, I do, but I can’t write about it in a way that moves me or will move you, so I don’t. And speaking of which, shouldn’t I write more about politics? That’s what smart people do. At the very least, intelligent bloggers let you know where they stand on the issues, and I don’t. Because this isn’t that kind of blog. But should it be?
Then of course there are other bloggers who involve their readers, who post about universal issues and things people care about, and who expand their writing beyond, Oh my face burned off! Oh I’m scared to fly! Oh, I’m PMSing!. And usually, they include funny pictures and Photoshop stuff, and I don’t and why not? It just doesn’t occur to me. I’m at my best writing-wise when I talk about myself and poor you guys. Bored, much?
Now if I could just embrace my banality, all might be OK. You know, just write about lipstick and stuff when there are people dying in the world and it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I like lipstick an awful lot (when I find the right shade) and is there anything so wrong with writing about that?
Maybe I should practice my writing more. Compose insightful and heartbreaking beautiful sentences. craft unexpected plots and that kind of crap. But when I do that, it comes across as if I’m trying too hard. And that’s almost worse than not writing at all.
Why can’t good stuff just occur to me? I’d like a butt dispenser of blog posts. That’d be so awesome. Just pull my next entry right out of my nether regions. But then, why aren’t I the type of person who can just have something come from the heart, not the butt?
But after all this, if I could just write anything, I’d be OK for today. Even so, I turned this post into me, me, me again. I’m hopeless. But while we’re on the subject. Here’s my face a few days ago. I’m too vain to post a full frontal.
I’ll post the After pic sometime today.