Disclaimer: Family, proceed with caution. If you decide to read this, and ever mention some of things I am going to write, I will pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about. Also, everyone, I guess I have to tell you not to let your 7 year old read this, that seems pretty obvious, but some people get all up in a tizzy about their kids accidentally reading x-rated blog posts.
I am often asked at family gatherings why I don’t have a blog. I say that I don’t feel like I have important enough things to blog about blah blah, or I wouldn’t know what to say blah blah…
I am not great at translating my everyday life into blog form. I am 24. Do you remember 24? Are you 24? It isn't interesting. It is mind numbing and awful. I'm sure its great for some people- people who are abroad, teaching English or building houses or some shit, if you like that sort of thing. Or maybe for Brooklyn hipsters who are throwing shows in basements, and writing zines and all that shit (By the way, I do not like to even say zines. I am emphasizing the doucheyness of these 20-somethings. You refer to yourself as a zinester? Consensus: sorry, you are a tool-bag).
The rest of us are unemployed or working at jobs we hate. See? We’re also quite self-pitying. Even writing this is starting to depress me. I start to feel like an angsty 14-year-old girl listening to Evanescence while writing on her Xanga journal. Christ. I’ve tried to start my own blogs before. I have tried a few times. I don’t want to spin my common everyday life into a witty and cynical already been done "secret diary of a insert something clever”-type blog. I am perhaps TOO curmudgeonly to have a blog.
OK, those are some of the reasons…but they’re bad excuses. I have spent hours reading the most boring and mundane shit about people’s lives; it’s entertaining even if they are so-so writers. I DO want to read about your fight with the cashier at Petco, or even if I don’t, I’ll probably still read it. Just like how I looked through your Facebook album of 178 photos from your 2006 trip to Japan (I’m talking to you, co-worker of my cousin who I met once at a BBQ in 2003).
*I would like to warn you now, that this post is going to be excessively long.
I’ve already had 3 diet cokes today, and I ate a handful of gummy vitamins for breakfast. Perhaps this is why I am prone to tangents. Aspartame is a food group, right?
The truth is that 24, while painful, is amusingly so at times, and doesn’t make for bad writing material. Here is the MAIN reason why I am a failure blogger:
Other than my possible caffeine induced ADHD, it is important to me to be honest and genuine. I like talking about all the nitty gritty stuff, but I also like to be on speaking terms with my family and friends. I am not saying that Una’s blog and similar (but obviously inferior) blogs aren’t honest and genuine. I know for a fact that Una’s blog is the real deal, guys. She really did fall into a depression over Billy and Alison’s break-up. Also she wants to eat black people.
But at this period in my life, also referred to as hellish limbo, honesty would require me to have an alias. I would have to. In addition to exposing the intimate secrets of the people I love, I would also at times come across like a pill popping, whiskey loving, hooker with heaps of emotional baggage and no job. But then again, who hasn’t done a line of coke off a stripper’s ass for twenty bucks? Am I right?
*Omg, I’m totally kidding. I spend most of my time crying and watching reruns of Dawson’s Creek.
But anyway, here are some examples of the tamer things I would write about that I wouldn’t want my family to read:
- How I am afraid to get a kitten because I am constantly dropping various prescription medications on the floor (Seriously. Sometimes I look for loose Xanax in my floorboards).
- How my breasts have grown 3 times their size over the past year. I am obsessed with this. It is inexplicable. I tried to make a guest video blog for Una while she was in Italy, but I was drunk and I just talked about my boobs the whole time. I still think she should post it. Ok, I wasn't even that drunk at all. I just can't stop looking at them.
- How I'm pretty sure the last guy I slept with was a serial killer. To go any further into the reasoning behind this theory would require me to have an alias (Sorry guys, I know you were psyched to hear about my creepy sexual escapades).
- The dangers of fucking on a bar pool table without first checking for surveillance cameras (Oh yes, I said it. I’m talking to you miss anonymous blog reader.)
- The dangers of twins. Just in general. That’s all I’m gonna say on that.
- How you shouldn't sleep with anyone before asking them what they do for a living. "Straightboysjerkoff.com" is not something you want to hear on the first morning of a new year (Dad, if you are unfortunately reading this, I want to clarify that that was not THIS year. I didn’t bring a porn-star to your apartment. To the best of my knowledge).
Ack, that last one was tough to admit.
My dad’s e-mails end with a link that says "Check out my daughter Una's blog!” I don't think he would want to link people to accounts of my night with Patrick Bateman.
In reality I do not lead a very wild life. I just like to talk about those things more than the activities that take up the majority of my days, like for example eating 7 bowls of cereal while reading celebrity baby blogs. If you want to hear about the time I hooked up with Gordon’s son Miles (from Sesame Street, jealous? WOOP WOOP) you’ll have to come up with an alias for me.
For now I'm going to go take a Xanax and watch Law and Order SVU while reading about Matilda Ledger’s birthday party.
P.S.- I also hooked up with a character from “Hey Arnold”- maybe I’ll marry Dora the Explorer’s backpack. I think that’s actually a woman though. Hit me up, Yo Gabba Gabba cast, you guys seem like you’d be up for some freaky shit.