And since this might be the last chance I get to run a photo that has nothing to do with anything, here’s a funny one. Even though I know those kids didn’t write that (the G is a give-away, Dad), it’s funny anyway.
“What’s your blog about?” people would ask.
I never knew what to say. Sometimes I summed it up by saying I wrote about emo-shopping at Hot Topic, colonoscopies, the FAFSA, and that one time when I accidentally got my hair done. For almost six years, I wrote about whatever funny thing I had encountered or was on my mind when I sat down to write. If there was a piece of coral stinking up my back patio, I wrote about that. If I had a dinner party and forgot to put pasta in the pasta primavera, I wrote about that. If I went to Comedy Driving School, learned the Michael Jackson Thriller dance, or found British food that sounded like canned private parts, I wrote about that, that and that.
I had ups - when I had so much levity in my life that I was writing upwards of three times a week, and laughing like mad all the while. And I had downs, like the time I wrote a metaphorical blog post about my car having a squeaky wheel and how annoying it was, and most of the comments I got were referrals to mechanics. My most Tea Party friend not only didn’t get the analogy, he took that opportunity to make fun of my Prius. Not everyone gets my humor, but that was a double fail. For the past year, I’ve been not so much running out of things to write about, but thinking Just Humor Me has run its course.
I’m putting out a (hopefully) funny book about my past nine or 10 moves (who’s counting?) and I’d like to switch gears and blog about moving. Also, I think it’s time that I wrote a real blog. In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t really a blog. It’s a column. Because I’m old school and that’s how I write. But I hear old dogs can learn new tricks, so I’m going to take a shot at writing real blog posts. Short, snappy, updatey, what’s-on-my-mind blog posts. That’s right: Eat my dust, Erma Bombeck.
I’m not sure how that will work. Or how well I’ll do at specializing in one topic. I’ll miss being able to write about the lady that ran the gas station in Hubbard or candy bars I can't find or my misadventures in dog training or how much I hate toilet paper commercials or how much I love Hoarders.
Methinks my Facebook posts are about to get a lot longer. :P ROFLMAO