it's all 100% true

Oh blog. You are a year old. It was about a week or two ago. And here I just remembered today.

I feel bad, blog. I feel really bad.

I'm sorry. And here I didn't get you anything. You. My little blog. Like a nice new font or anything. But you know that I love you. Right?

We've had our ups and downs. To be sure.

But we came to a place were we got along well and it was all typing and clicking and publishing to post. Like all day long. Type. Click. Publish to post.

Click, click, click.

Over and over.

I felt like a loser the whole time, too. God, it was great.

I was just basically "published to post" all the time and it meant (almost) nothing to me, but still it felt kind of crazy and good.

In the beginning I couldn't decide if I was a Japanese school girl or something more like a geek. And if you know me at all you know which one I was.

And it was like, voila, frankenmonsterblog. And it's never been the same. I love life. It's always like that. The biggest distraction in the whole world. All of my own creation. Me and my waste of time. I mean monster.

Blog.

Blog.

Blogging.

And it was the word that was the basis of my first post. Blog. I thought it was funny. Like snot or slob. and it felt good. And greedy. To blog. Quite like eating french fries all day long or something. french fries. With accompaning hot dogs. Requisite junk food. And it did make me quite sick to my stomach. Yes. Really sick.

But, still, I did it. I blogged.

And I was like a cowgirl in the sand. We (bloggers - back then) were like pirates. You know what I mean. Don't make me expalin it.

Back then. One year ago. When there were only literally two hundred and fifty blogs. It was Algonquin Round Table all day long. It was. Ideas exchanged. Mostly drunken. And there was furry. And quite a few recipes. And cat information. And a couple of shameless pornographers (both literal and the figurative variation) and the not-even-trying-to-write types.

It's ok.