If there isn’t already a commemorative holiday called I LOVE MY BLOG DAY, someone should just proclaim it and get the ball rolling. (Oh wait, I think I just did!)
Yeah, I know it would get more attention if I called it I HEART MY BLOG DAY, but OMGIJUSTCANT! Sorry.
My blog and I have been together for not even two and a half months yet, but we are totally, you know, committed. We spend time together every day – and sometimes, I blushingly admit, we stay in bed all day long, only prying ourselves apart long enough for one of us to go to the bathroom or prepare a lovely fruit plate and bring it back to eat with our (OK! MY) fingers. And weekends? O.M.G.!
Already, in our short period together, we’ve consummated over 3,000 times. Not alone, of course. We’ve had lots of others join in — although some of them come and go so quickly that we don’t even learn their names. And others like to get up close enough to watch, but they don’t fully participate. That’s okay with us, really. It thrills us just knowing that they’re there, lurking while they’re otherwise engaged in, ummm, who-knows-what-else?
I know what you’re thinking.
Three thousand times (Oh wait, 3,084, but who’s counting?) may not be a lot to some of you. You’ve been with your blog so long that you don’t even remember that electrifying moment when you received your first comment (You saved and backed up that first email, didn’t you?!), or that grey, cloudy day you were rolled onto the sidebar of a blogger of unspecified gender and country of origin. Don’t tell me you’re so jaded, so mired in constancy that you don’t remember imagining that every commenter was gorgeous, height-and-weight-appropriate, and totally captivated by your every musing.
Could it possibly be true that you have forgotten the exhiliration of inserting that first jpeg or youtube video, finding the perfect placement for your widget, or Oh! being linked multiple times in rapid succession over the course of one very satisfying day?
Sure, we’d be more popular if I focused on politics (did they have that US election yet?), talking cats and dogs (are those cheezeburgers organic, grass-fed, lowfat, and dairy-free is what I want to know!), white people (been hanging out around them my whole life and frankly am bored to tears with the entire affair), sports (dull, blank stare and absolutely nothing to say whatsoever), or American Idol (by the time you read this it just might be over, praise God and Allah), but the fact is, my blog and I dialogued about it and reached consensus that we wanted to go slow this time and build a foundation of intimacy not easily crumbled.
I know what you’re thinking.
Just wait until the honeymoon is over, right? Just wait until it becomes sheer drudgery looking at the same screen day after day and trying to dredge up something new and interesting, right? I can practically see you toggling your finger in my face: Just wait until you can’t even stand the thought of waking up one more day and knowing that your blog is waiting, expectantly, for your arrival! The day will come, mark my words, that you will find other outlets for your personal expression and others more alluring who will yearn to host you…
Call me naive if you will, but your experience has nothing to do with the love between me and my blog. Who else gives me the space for the unfettered outpourings of my creative expression – without uttering a single word of judgment? 24/7, my blog is available and present, eager to receive what I have to offer and more than willing to remain fully open and listening until I am done.
Yes, it truly is something special. Something timeless and transcendent. Don’t you understand that the Universe, in all its wisdom, has brought me and my blog together in this time, this dimension, and this plane of existence?
A love like this is hard to hide, and others know this. They have searched and have found us, using the terms long associated with endless love. Terms like:
how did “holy crap” become a phrase
your time has come you don’t live right
how to soften your ego
my neck is always tight
freud and the color red
hold on don’t you ever let go
cigar woody allen
how do men want to fly
and my personal favorite (so far): hopping man buys flowers.
(PS: Feel free to use any of these as writing prompts or other creative fodder.)
I will shout it unashamed from the rooftops! I LOVE MY BLOG! I LOVE MY BLOG! I LOVE MY BLOG! And even though I am 50 years older than my beloved, I know in my heart that MY BLOG LOVES ME!
Sheeesh! There ought to be a law…