Of course there are other kinds of blogs. There are the blogs that photographers use to post their work. The ever so famous blog that Julie did in homage to Julia. Last year or so, a girl in NYC did a blog where she was looking for 30 first dates in 30 days culminating in a second date on Valentine's Day (there was a subsequent appearance on an important morning show). But all of those blogs have a purpose, some kind of gimmick/goal. I don't have a gimmick/goal.
On top of all that, I am not a good writer. Sure, I can write an ok persuasive essay or conclusive paper, but I am a pretty bad story teller. If you don't believe me, ask my 10th grade English teacher, Mr. Lippman (who would presently die if he saw how wordy this is - he always used to say to cut the "dead wood"). He may not remember the occasion where he told me I was failing (at which point, I broke out into tears), but I recall it with perfect clarity. I should note that, in the end, I scraped by with a C (but that may have had something to do with the tears). Anyway, the point is that I always hated writing. I used to avoid it at all costs, reverting to cleaning my room, etc. (there was no Facebook when I was in high school - let's be honest, I was barely even aware of the internet at that point). The point is, I stink at writing.
So why am I starting a blog, you ask??? I don't have any kids of which to share adorable photos with all my friends and family. I'm not on a mission to circumnavigate the globe on a dingy or lose 100 lbs (10 would be just fine, actually). And I am not venting amazing creative writing ability to bless a loyal readership.
Yes, I wondered myself why this silly idea of writing a blog came into my head. And this is my answer:
- My journal writing is sporadic at best and I really should be recording my feelings/experiences for my posterity (we're exhibiting faith here, ok) no matter how boring/bitter they might be. And perhaps having some kind of accountability will motivate me to write often.
- I am hoping that by exercising my writing muscles, perhaps, they will increase in strength. Just knowing others will be reading my journal should get me to proofread and edit before I publish. (I know what you're thinking, "This girl uses 'I' to start too many of her sentences." This, in fact, is true. But I'm just getting started so give me a break! I'll be bench pressing my weight in words before you know it.)
- After a couple weeks of following a friend's blog, I found myself drafting blog entries in my head, which must be some kind of sign, right? This one came to me while sitting and waiting for my car at the Toyota dealer yesterday - a subject that will be discussed later (*uuggh*).
Ok, so that is about it. I warned you that I was a bad writer. Which probably means that you won't come back :( Oh well. There's always posterity, right?
Ehh . . . unless my writing skills chase away the spirit of Elijah at some future day.
*Did I mention that I might be a shopaholic? Self-diagnosed. Think about it, it's an excuse to get out of the house and see people (unless I'm shopping on the internet, which has also been known to happen). But after reviewing my shrinking bank account I decided to put the kibosh on the spending ("stop the bleeding" if you don't mind gruesome medical analogies). As a warning, there may be side effects - i.e. coveting of new fashions that I can't have - on here.