My good friend, favorite author I know personally and the chick who brought me into this century by introducing me to blogs is quitting hers. You can read why here, at least for a few more days...
Like most blogfolk I've wondered why I write on this thing.
Usually it is, like Tiffany says, my own fascination with all things me. The motivation behind that self-fest is what varies. This year, moving away from my friends, school, work, church, and house has been one of the harder moves I've made. It lacked a little of that sense of adventure you have when you're headed to new career commitments, seeing as my only job now is spit-up collector and cry averter. "Only"- of course I have my Hallmark moments, and I won't bore you with the treacly reasons I love the kid just now. I'll just trust you know that part.
Even though every single thing I post about is some trifle I find related to my own life, I am compelled to look for angles or items I might not have noticed if I wasn't blogging them. I step out of myself, look up from the trail every once in a while. While I hold no delusions nor desires that I will be the next idol of the blogosphere, just knowing people could read me makes that little difference. Like cleaning up the living room floor when the plumber is on his way.
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