julymas
dear friends both real and imaginary,
how are you?
good? good.
so... blogging.
all right, i'm going to make a statement about blogging that i'm assuming rings true for everyone. or at least i hope rings true. which is why i shall boldly speak in second person.
after a year, or maybe even a few months, of consistent blogging, your reactions to life's little situations change. everything becomes fodder for a good blog anecdote. you're quicker to laugh at yourself and roll your eyes because it's easier to see things from the omniscient story teller's point of view.
and that's great.
but then, down the line, you change even more. during conversations you start picking out the blog worthy lines. you go on dates looking for things to mock later. you contemplate taking a tape recorder with you to family thanksgiving dinners.
and then. down the line, you're cooking dinner and you puncture your finger and blood splatters EVERYWHERE and you howl and elevate your arm and think "i should take a picture of the blood splattered kitchen to put on my blog!"
and that is what they in the AA program call hitting rock bottom.
julymas 2008.
i have never made an entire julymas dinner myself and i'm proud to say that as of yesterday i still have not made an entire julymas dinner myself.
because that would be hard.
as happens with any of my worthwhile endeavors, i instigated the cooking, forced people to refer to the julymas turkey as "henry" and then was quickly shoved out of the way by people who know how to cook and are not inept and don't perforate their fingers with cans of cream of mushroom soup splattering blood EVERYWHERE in the process.
ahem, hypothetically.
and that's really all i have to say.
later,
kat
how are you?
good? good.
so... blogging.
all right, i'm going to make a statement about blogging that i'm assuming rings true for everyone. or at least i hope rings true. which is why i shall boldly speak in second person.
after a year, or maybe even a few months, of consistent blogging, your reactions to life's little situations change. everything becomes fodder for a good blog anecdote. you're quicker to laugh at yourself and roll your eyes because it's easier to see things from the omniscient story teller's point of view.
and that's great.
but then, down the line, you change even more. during conversations you start picking out the blog worthy lines. you go on dates looking for things to mock later. you contemplate taking a tape recorder with you to family thanksgiving dinners.
and then. down the line, you're cooking dinner and you puncture your finger and blood splatters EVERYWHERE and you howl and elevate your arm and think "i should take a picture of the blood splattered kitchen to put on my blog!"
and that is what they in the AA program call hitting rock bottom.
julymas 2008.
i have never made an entire julymas dinner myself and i'm proud to say that as of yesterday i still have not made an entire julymas dinner myself.
because that would be hard.
as happens with any of my worthwhile endeavors, i instigated the cooking, forced people to refer to the julymas turkey as "henry" and then was quickly shoved out of the way by people who know how to cook and are not inept and don't perforate their fingers with cans of cream of mushroom soup splattering blood EVERYWHERE in the process.
ahem, hypothetically.
and that's really all i have to say.
later,
kat
Comments
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toNsPh-pxgc
For some reason, while reading your blog, this came to mind.