I’ve only been a blogger for a short time, and I am finding that I enjoy reading blogs more than I do writing them.
Maybe it’s because I am not as clever as I thought I was, and when I re-read my posts I am usually disappointed. Either it’s not funny when I thought it was, or I wandered off the point somewhere in the middle and never got back to it, thus making the whole thing look like a 7th-grade essay, or I just didn’t find the words to say what I meant. I used to have a great vocabulary, but I lost it gradually after coming to the realization that a lot of people had no idea what I was talking about. I started speaking in plain English, and gradually forgot all the big words. See, I don’t even have a big word meaning “big words.” But I used to.
Now that I’m writing on the internet — I should say now that there IS an internet — plain English is not that important. People can look up anything they want — even get it translated from some other language into English. Plain English, if they want. So I don’t have to talk down. I could use all the polysyllabic verbiage and circumlocutory constructions I wanted. But now plain is the only way I can talk. So my blogging is a little, um, boring.
On the other hand, I have read hundreds of other peoples’ blogs, and they are funny, intelligent, well-researched AND they freely use big words that I understand but can never think of when I want to. They are also poetic, god damn them, and dirty, god bless them. Yes, sex blogging: How I love it. The filthy details of randy midwestern housewives’ masturbatory fantasies, and how they become my masturbatory fantasies.
I have noticed that all blogs are written by 30-year-old women. This, I suppose, should not surprise anyone. Who writes diaries? Who are the diarists in your life? Girls, then later women. Enter blogging. Wow! Diaries that others can read, but they are just as private as any journal under lock and key because no one knows who you really are!! So you can keep your secrets while you reveal them. And you can lie about your exciting life and your dates with Brad Pitt or Gwyneth Paltrow and hey — it might be true.
But back to 30-year-old women. OK, they aren’t the only bloggers, but they might be half of all bloggers. When do they find the time to put together these witty, sexy, smart rants? It takes me a week to write five paragraphs, and they are knocking out daily posts, while they raise three children alone, hold down a full-time job, attend law school, read voraciously and pursue two or three potential boyfriends, all of which activity shows up instantly in their blogs. I am ready to submit. Women are truly superior beings. I get it. I humbly request to serve at your feet.
And now, because I read more than I write, I feel like I have all these new acquaintances, people who know me, and I know them, and we chat a little every few days, and we get each others’ jokes, and we are concerned for each others’ emotional and physical health. If someone posts pictures I study them as if they are of my sister’s wedding, and comment on them as if anyone gives a shit what I think of them. Some of the 30-year-old women have man-trouble, and I am right there with my wise advice, which is about as useful as tits on a bull, and I fervently hope no one takes it seriously, or I could have some real liability, but I feel like it’s OK to give advice and if I have a breakthrough maybe I will even ask for some, too, because, you know, I feel like you are all my pals.
Except that you’re not my pals, really, and we really don’t know each other, and I only think I know who I am dealing with because I have — in many cases — accepted more or less at face value who each of my blogging buddies says (s)he is. And this makes me pathetic, I guess. Not that I don’t have any friends in real life. I have lots. Ok, two. But still, I know they would go to the mat for me. How many of you would do that? All right, then.
L.,
you’ve got your own voice and it’s more articulate than you want to seem to give yourself credit for…
and depending on what the mat is, i think some of your blogging “pals”, myself including, would go to it for you…
i can honestly say that i’m surprised to recognize levels of care for a number of the bloggers i read, and to sense it from them too…
never thought this would result in that…
would have laughed at the idea of virtual friends…
but here i am anyway…
Thanks for stopping by, Eric.
Yeah, weird, isn’t it? I was one of the first in AOL chat rooms, and that quickly lost its appeal, although there’s nothing like carrying on five or six text-based converstaions at the same time to teach one how to type. But now blogging is the new chatting, with welcoming souls like Pops letting everyone have at it in their comments section, and I have virtual pals again. Also virtual lust objects, but that’s another story…
Hey Larr-Bear, I’d go to the virtual mat for you 🙂 The beauty of blogs is that it’s very egalitarian–it gives a voice to whoever wants one, even if that voice is MPH’s. It’s all good–keep on blogging 🙂
I think that eventually all the intelligent bloggers write something like your latest post. I think many of us are thinking, “Hey, this is great, but why can’t there be more?!” It is virtual, though, we’ve got to remember that. Even so, I want more! I want plenty!
You’re right, many of the bloggers are women, and many of the best ones are women. Somewhere, though it’s “news off the Internet”, I read that of of people who begin blogs a far greater per centage of women continue for the long haul. I too exult in their writings, even all the neurotic mommies. Maybe especially them!
I’ve been reading you every day and I’m assuming that you’re putting on a front for literary reasons when you “talk poor” about your writing. I was laughing out loud several times during this one today! If you’re thinking you’re not Shakespeare, neither am I. Neither is the guy twice as good as I am. In fact, nobody’s looking for Shakespeare in this day and age, not among the blogs.
Oh Larry, some of my best offline friends have been people that I have met online, in the virtual world. The Internet, if used properly, can make the space between us all a bit smaller. So, give your online pals a little more credit! And, give yourself more credit, damn it!
Steph — Call me Larr-Bear and I’ll follow you anywhere.
Ron — I DO think I’m Shakespeare, after a ten-day absinthe binge.
Melissa — You’re the best Mom ever!
Thanks to all. And don’t think I don’t know exactly who you are, either.
Dude, did you just call me a chick?
Pop — No. I didn’t call you a chick. You would be among the half of all bloggers who are not 30-year-old women. But I sense that you are in touch with your feminine side. You go, Pops!
I’m 11 years past 30, yet I blog. And I am female, thus far superior to you and your male kind.
Oh, and as for your first paragraph about “wandering off the point somewhere in the middle,” you read Pops’ blog, don’t you?
SJ — …and yet you blog. At your age? Incredible! Love your blog, though. (Must email you about technical issues with non-IE browsers, however.)