I don't think that I really need to have a blog. Nobody does, of course, it's supposed to be some kind of a hobby, but I'm already part of a blog for my family, so I don't really need a new forum to rant on, so the blame for this blog can only be placed on my sister.Fascinating stuff. On one hand, we already see many elements that will later rise to the fore: the style that is a curious cross of pompous and awkwardly chatty; the paranthesis that go nowhere and do nothing but interrupt the flow of the sentence (like this one, for example); the long, confusing sentences; the wry, self-denigating tone that you can tell is just waiting to hear a chorus of voices to shout contradicting praises; the inability to find a good way to end. On the other hand (to coin a cliche), we have all of the elements that I can now, from the lofty vantage point of my superior age, look back upon and smile fondly but wryly about the naivete: the struggle to figure out what I want to be when I grow up; the charming notion that I would actually post on a semi-daily basis; and, somewhat latent, the idealistic, unrealistic idea that I would start posting and suddenly, hundreds of people would come flocking to hear the brilliance of my words.
A couple of days ago, we were discussing what on earth I'm going to major in during college. One of the possibilities that came up (actually, she was bringing up possibilities and I was explaining why I could never go into them) was English, but I pointed out the fact that this is the kind of thing that it's easy to major in, but very very hard to earn money in unless one has actual talent, which I'm not sure I do. So she said that I should create a blog as a writing forum to see if A) I enjoy writing something semi-daily and B) if anyone else finds it interesting enough to actually read. So far I can handle A) (Well, it's only been one post) and I have serious doubts as to B), but at least I tried.
And, of course, the content has radically shifted as well. At the very beginning, my posts were cuttingly witty (I hope you can hear the sardonicness there. There should be some universal text symbol for dry sarcasm, the way that italics give emphasis and smileys joy). The topics ranged from a parody on the Lorax (by far, my most popular post) to critiques of books and movies. I still rather favor that genre, but find that I can't keep up the necessary levels of annoyance or think of sufficient suitable sources.
Already by July, we can see how my true blog nature will arise- apologizing for not posting for months and summarizing uninteresting aspects of my daily life for general consumption. Things only got more so from there. Soon enough, we faded into vague reflections on random subjects, mixed with banal anecdotes from my life from which those reflections might be spawned. And then came the sappiness.
I must admit, I was totally unprepared for the sappiness. I am not, in my daily life, anything like a sappy person. I have probably told this blog more of my personal feelings than I have told most of friends and family. I blame the diary/confessional feel of the whole thing, although it may also be a sampling error- philosophic or sappy things are easier to write, and easier to keep interested in until you post.
Well, this is a longer than average blogversary (what is with that anyway? What, you add blog to a word and now it's all cool? And anyway, the 'anni' bit means year, so 'blogversary' is absolutely meaningless, in an anneversarial sense) post, but I've neglected things for so long and have a clear run of the computer for a bit. Will the blog survive another year? It's an interesting question. At times, I doubt it, as my interest in the blog wanes and seems to die. But then again, if the blog died all the times that I assumed that it would, it would have to be a cat to still be here. (That was such a messed up sentence. Piece of advice- never, ever trap yourself in a phrase that you're not sure how to end, and then be too lazy to go back and try to revamp it into something that doesn't paint you into a corner.) But here it still is, and I, for one, am still enjoying it.