I have blog envy. My best friend from high school has just started a new blog called Where Is My Suitcase and even though I’m happy for her (and rather proud of myself for having developed the technical know-how to answer her widget questions), I can’t escape the nagging feeling that my blog is getting b-o-r-i-n-g.
I spent the entirety of last week writing pure drivel. Case in point? Please Step Away from the Cell Phone: 613 words of absolute nonsense on a subject entirely devoid of consequence. I don’t know what happened. I never set out to write about relationships. Dating? Yes. Embarrassing stories? Yes. Erudite observations on my abject failure to secure myself a boyfriend and pseudo-ethnographic reports on being single and 20-something in Philadelphia? Yes.
My ill-fated attempts at playing hard to get?
Puh-lease! I’m as egocentric as they come and even I don’t find myself interesting anymore. In fact, I’ve been overcome by an ever-increasing urge to smack my head into the wall and shout “Enough! Stop talking until you have something intelligent to say!”
Of course smacking my head into the wall will do little to endow me with the brain cells I appear to be lacking so this is probably not the best course of action. Instead, I’m going to whip up a batch of No-Pudge brownies, ingest some chocolate and try to figure it out.
(Suggestions, comments and criticisms of the constructive and not-so-constructive variety welcome. Also, just in case you do enjoy my posts-about-drivel, PSM#3 and I are currently engaged in an intense game of phone tag further complicated my steadfast resolve to let him pursue me. You should probably take this time to set up an RSS feed so that in the event that we actually establish contact, you’ll be notified immediately of my continued adventures in text messaging.)