Several years ago, my friend EFB was explaining to JG why people blog.
“I just don’t get it. What’s the point?” JG asked.
“The point is to write funny things for your friends to read but then you really just reread your own blog and remember how funny you are. Because no one else really reads it except for your Grandma.”
“Yeah.” I chimed in, sipping my whiskey sour.
And that’s the thing. Who really reads your blog when you are blogging just to blog your thoughts and opine on all things humorous about being a hobo-spinster-librarian who stomps around Portland being incredibly self-referential and self-deprecating in what you hope is a really cute way, but is ultimately just fodder for your grandmothers anecdotes at bridge with the girls.
Or in my case, my Mom reading my blog and saying “Oh Bryanne,” out-loud to her five dogs and BN, who is probably playing Bubble Guppies on his Nook and only half listening.
But the thing about blogging is after a while it feels like homework. Which is why 1 in 5 blogs fail.
That is a made up statistic, but possibly fairly close to reality.
Everyone is always saying to other people, “You should start a blog.”
Just today, I read a comment on a friend’s Facebook status that urged said friend to start a blog about the funny things their kid says.
“You should start a blog” is the new way of saying “Write it down so I can read it later so I don’t have to listen now.”
Blogs are like assholes. Everyone has one whether they will show it to you or not.
The thing about having a blog that is about nothing but yourself and your experiences is that you have to talk about yourself all the fucking time and that is just so incredibly exhausting.
I’m not very good at expressing my thoughts on politics or current events. I usually just get really angry and say “What the fuck is wrong with all of you.” And that seems really boring to read on a daily basis. Also, sometimes I care more about what you can find on TMZ than what you can find on NPR.
If I was good at crafts or cooking, I could start a DIY or food blog, but I’m terrible at taking photos so there would be a lot of blurry shots of roasted vegetables and the very valid concern on the reader’s part that that skinny black thing they see in the photo might just be a dog hair and not a garnish.
So talking about myself or my dog is what I’m most equipped to write about, but then I really hate it when people say “I read your blog” in public.
What I’m asking for here is a gentleman’s agreement. I’ll write this blog and you can read it (or not) and then promise not to mention it to me in public.