What the hell took me so long? Why now?
In grade 5 one of my assignments was to keep a daily journal. This was a task at which I failed miserably. Why should Mr. Suigu be granted access to the most private and secretive activities of ten-year old Andrew? Things such as, snooping around my grandparents' house where my family was living at the time, reading model train magazines, watching too much TV and biting into this one particular brand of Japanese candy so hard that it would effectively wire my jaw stuck until it melted. (I actually really enjoyed this last activity)
What has changed in the past fifteen years? Is my life appreciably more interesting than it was back then? Of course not! Do I feel a need to chronicle my own doings for posterity's sake, so that a year from now I can look back at all of my blog entries and tell myself "Andrew, you really accomplished something in 2008, and moreover, you put it on the internet for everybody to read"? Nuh-uh. Is this a means of underhandedly marketing a business venture or the unnamed retail store that I work for? Can't promise it will never be, but it sure isn't right now.
No, Internet, I am starting this blog for the same reason 97% of bloggers blog: because I want to show the world how clever and ironic and satirical I can be. Especially when it comes to things like observing completely mundane everyday activities. I want to write about that bastard in the 1989 Dodge Caravan that *almost* ran me over as I rode to work, and how I shook my fist at him, and I want your cursor to start trembling just before you get to the part where I was actually okay and made my way to a wireless hotspot to buy expensive coffee and write about the harrowing experience. I want to complain about the service (or lack thereof!) at one of any number of government offices or retail outlets where I have a bad experience, and I want my writing to make you wish that you were there, having your request for a warranty denied in a painfully slow fashion, by a person who is obviously far less intelligent than yourself. I am going to complain about my hangovers and inability to hold liquor in such technicolor brilliance that you will wish that it was YOU, nay, you will believe that it was yourself, NAY, YOU WILL FEEL WHAT I FELT when I drank four double vodka Redbulls in an hour and puked on the streetcar and forgot where I lived.
For that is the beauty of a blog. The blogger may take any situation, no matter how good or bad, heart-breaking or infuriating, interesting or inane, and with the proper writing style, they can make people want to read about it! Or I am hoping at least I will create a finished product that I can imagine wanting to read. The minivan story might take the form of an editorial, with a spin on the invisible walls that city living imposes between its inhabitants. The customer service story would undoubtedly be written as a dialogue, with obvious liberties taken to set the scene and cement my status as the completely benevolent protagonist. Whereas the drunken streetcar ride would have to be written as stream-of-consciousness, with many run on sentences and unnecessary capital letters and spelling errors to get across just how drunk I was at the time.
I think you and I are gonna have a great time, Blog.