Shoot. Has it been that long? This blog is going to turn five in the fall? Should I plan on sending it to kindergarten?
Anyway, listen. I think we need to have just a brief “state of the blog” address here. See, this thing you are reading, it’s just some words put on a screen by a gal who likes to put words on a screen. It is, like it says over to the right there, about “about completing the task of living with enough spontaneity to splurge some of it on bystanders, to share with others working through their own travails a little of your bonus life.”
I don’t believe Donnell Alexander ever thought that would be used as a feminist’s manifesto (but he’s on the internet, so, if you’re inclined, you can ask him), but I do consider those words an excellent description of my feminist project–to splurge on you, who are going through your own shit, a little of my life. If you don’t want it, fine. Don’t come here. Don’t read me.
But if you do come here and you do read me, get that it’s a gift and it’s rude to dictate what gifts you’re given. So, if it doesn’t work for you, again, don’t come here.
I consider this a feminist project because it allows me to say outloud what I see, to admit the pressures I feel, not to gain your sympathy–I don’t want your sympathy–but to say, in public, the things that aren’t right, the ways that the things that are wrong or right with the world express themselves in my personal world. It is a great and novel luxury for a woman to have a public voice. In the whole history of the world, it’s a great and novel luxury for a woman to have a public voice, to be able to be unseemly and loud and rude and funny and sad and happy and passionate and opinionated in public, where everyone can see. And I revel in that luxury.
But this is mine.
If you think things should be done differently, said differently, handled differently, then there’s the whole wide internet. Do it your own way. More power to you.
But if you’re going to read me and realize that it means you can’t be online anymore… well, best of luck to ya, but that’s pretty fucked up.
(And when does the day come when someone reads me and realizes that they cannot rest until their face is buried in my cooter? When, I ask you, does that day come?)
So when you say “I do this for me” and mean it, that’s bad. But when Say Uncle says “I do this for me” and means it, it’s laudable. Yeah, that makes sense, sure.
is that really a time you’d want a person to rest? ‘cos if so, i may have been doing it wrong. just sayin’.
I should rephrase that. I’d hate to accidentally smother anyone.
Ah, the good old days, when my wife though I was the writer of Digital Nicotine. LOL!
“Everybody in a damn competition to see who can be more clever than the next.”
Ummm ….. this is a problem??? This is something new?
Lee meant it was new since the 8th century BC, when Hesiod wrote:
“I see no hope for the future of our people if they are dependent on
frivolous youth of today, for certainly all youth are reckless beyond
words… When I was young, we were taught to be discreet and
respectful of elders, but the present youth are exceedingly wise
[disrespectful] and impatient of restraint”
And of course there’s Plato going on and on about how smart-assed the Greeks were to one another.
One might conclude that “clever disputation” is a durable feature of human intellectual exchange and that some touchy bastard is always throwing up his hands and stomping away when he doesn’t feel the love.
Don’t forget the boob freckle! You’ve also been encapsulating the boob freckle since 2004. Well, probably longer, but you know, in the context of the tiny pants of the cat.
“But if you do come here and you do read me, get that it’s a gift and it’s rude to dictate what gifts you’re given. ” – I just keep coming back to that sentence.
Also, 2004? Seriously? That seems so long ago!
If boob freckles come in capsules I want one for myself.
I never realized that burying my face in your cooter was an option! From now on I’ll be reading with an entirely different perspective.
Can I help pick out the Trapper Keeper your blog takes to kindegarten? That was always the best part of going to school.
Oh and “Viva La Boob Freckle.”
Just since 2004?