One

Today is my blogaversary. Hard to believe that for 365 days I have been writing for, obsessing about, forcing friends and their grandmas to read, and getting frustrated about those who just don't get this blog.

I'm not entirely sure whether or not it's evident, but I don't take this site at all lightly. She is not unlike the child that I never want to have. I worry about whether or not she will be accepted by others and try to help her make friends in her new community. I dress her up so she looks presentable when she leaves the house. I spend time nurturing her content and trying to find new ways to grow and innovate. She is, after all, the most intimate reflection of me.

And I have loved every minute of it. Few things give me as much joy as putting out a new post and seeing what all of you have to say about it. Many times you've been through something similar or just want to weigh in. Sometimes you agree, sometimes you don't. Sometimes you've had a bottle of wine and a bag of Baked Cheetos and you are just dropping in to say hello.

I love that. Rest assured, I read each and every comment. Many times more than once. Many times more than twice.

In reading this, it strikes me that this might seem exceedingly lame. It is, after all, a BLOG, a site most people think of as a stream of consciousness journal for the narcissist. But I consider this to be my public record. A place where I can put down the oddest of thoughts with relatively little judgment. The haven in which I expose my quirks (read: a preoccupation with bad/glorious puns, an obsession with putting male actors under my bed and those two hairballs with insect names - oh, and that clearly diagnosable and most unfortunate social phobia of playing softball).

The personal ties that have grown out of this collection of thoughts exceed every expectation. I didn't know when I began that a glorious network of like-minded folks existed worldwide. It was entirely unexpected that I could establish and maintain an online connection with so many of you, or ever meet fellow bloggers for a drink or a weekend. As is the fact that with odd consistency it seems as if these friendships began on the playground. These bonds are an unanticipated and beautiful reward.

I am saddened that in this year I have seen so many talented blogger friends shut down their sites (e.g., Megarita, it makes the baby Jesus cry). It makes me wonder how long I'll keep this up. Maybe Life will eventually take precedence, I'll max out on fodder, or you'll find another wino with whom to meet up for a drink.

Strangely, I remember the sad feeling I had in grad school when looking inside the case of a Howard Jones' Greatest Hits CD. Twenty years ago, the writer made the prediction that if the first ten years were any indication of the future, the artist would be making another compilation CD in the next decade (clearly, it wasn't to be; I'm pretty sure Howard is set to star on the next Surreal Life).

So I will make no predictions about what the future will hold. But I sure would love to be around here for another year.



By the way, I have no idea who that child is. But she looks as if she might enjoy reading blogs.