In praise of the anonymous blogger

For your reading pleasure today, dear reader, is a sliver of the conversation I just had with my sister about how at the moment I Think My Blog Is The Most Boring Thing Of Ever. Specifically I refer to original content...the slice-of-life stuff I sometimes write, not to the links to Fascinating Finds around the 'net. And the reason I find my blog's content boring is that on the one hand I love my friends and family so much that I would never consider blogging about the stupid or annoying crap this or that occasional one of them pulls. (Most certainly it must be "occasional" because of course mostly my friends and relatives are brilliant, fascinating and riveting people, so these annoyances are naturally few and far between.) Meanwhile, on the other hand, I have removed nearly all the excessive drama from my life and therefore I live in such a bubble of fairly peaceful euphoria - albeit laced with twinges of exaggeration, astute readers will be quick to note - that I don't have anything to really bitch about. As it turns out: edgy blogs are way more interesting to me. Okay, sure, not every day. Some days I need peaceful, calm, zenlike, inspirational, positive and just plain warm fuzzy. But other days? Yea. Some days I need sparks to fly from my fingertips as I write the witty observations that I don't hold back when talking to a trusted friend. Alas, the internet is such a public, public place. A public place where what you read here is interpreted through your own lens - a lens over which I have no control whatsoever. Pity.

On a semi-regular basis, I exchange emails with one of my writer friends into which we write in the subject lines, "If I were an anonymous blogger," or "For the blogs we haven't yet started." In these emails we let fly with rants of irritation and biting observations. Observations you, dear reader, will mostly never read. Because my blog voice is nice and kind and really and truly does care about the feelings of those with whom I surround myself.

Which is B O R I N G when your blog is just one in a sea of about a doolillion** and we readers are fickle and let's face it, somebody else's blog is almost always more interesting than yours. Why must we be wired this way? To find entertainment in the scandalous and offbeat? I don't know why, but it's true and you know it is.

But I'm looking for a way to capture a little of the edge that is allowed to appear in my non-internet life. For balance, at least. Not sure how, since at the moment I'm just in such a damn fine mood, the sky is gorgeous, my work is going so well, I have all this possibility stretching out in front of me, and, well, y'know, I'm just so irritatingly happy. Not a great formula for attracting masses of readers.

I've decided to play The Cure for a while today. Surely harnessing the intensity of these guys will help me tap just a little bit more into my dark side. It almost always works.  However, I have almost certainly negated the potential inherent dark mood guaranteed by my musical selection by deciding, while writing these very words, that I'm about go to run a gloriously decadent bubble bath with essence of lavender and eucalyptus. Oh well. There's always tomorrow.

**Doolillion? Yes, you read it here first. I've grown bored of million, billion, trillion, gazillion and squillion. So until I tire of this one, too? Excessive quantities will heretofore be measured and doled out in Doolillions. You're welcome.

PS: No. We will not be solidifying the quantity. Just trust me. It's really, really hyooooge.