Blog Me This

Ozma the cat is sitting in my lap because she is cold. Cats like this one are primarily practical creatures who care little for the virtues of companionship but have no problem using you for your nice warm lap. This is why I like dogs, because they don't save their love for a chilly day. But now she's purring and kneading my shirt with her very sharp claws, and for some reason I find this comforting. Call me co-dependent, if you want. I'm not going to argue.

Now that that cat and I have warmed up, let's breach the real issue at hand. Blogs are such a strange phenomenon. I am constantly torn between wanting to maximize the content of my blog and wanting to forget about it entirely. And this vicious cycle of not posting for weeks and then feeling even less like posting because I feel compelled to apologize for not posting but I don't even know if anyone's reading this damn thing besides my parents and since I'm not in Costa Rica anymore what interesting thing can I possibly say for anybody who is still reading this thing after all? Do you know what I mean!? No??? Well, that's alright. I can't expect you to know, but at least you can begin to see the psychology (or is that psychosis?) at work here.

Three days after posting that last demanding entry on this blog, I went to visit a good friend of mine. Over a smoke, she somewhat sheepishly told me that she was still reading my blog. I felt immediately guilty–a valuable reaction, I think, because now I am posting this, which is perhaps one of the most heartfelt posts I've made since re-entering the country three months ago. Hearing her very gentle reply to my hawkish last post generated a feeling in me I that I can accurately describe as self-loathing. I took a look at myself and saw a bitter writer, sniping all you readers with a demand that you declare your support for this venture of mine that is, in all honesty, ultimately selfish. Not a pretty picture, I must say.

I hope you enjoy this blog, really. I want people to enjoy it. But although I do appreciate support, it's clearly not your responsibility as a reader to maintain my happiness as a blogger. I am sorry for whining, readers! If you are still here, then I thank you for looking past that rather offensive post (I would have been put off by it, anyway) and maintaining your faith that I might actually post something worth reading again one of these days.

So from now on, for the sake of everyone who enjoys this blog, myself included, I am just going to assume that my parents are not the only people on the planet who read it, and if I decide to stop posting for some reason (e.g. I can't think of anything worthwhile to post!), I'll tell the truth and not attempt to convince myself or any of you that I'm not posting because I don't have an audience. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and self-enforced ignorance brings no less bliss than the more spontaneous variety. So even if I really don't have an audience, I will refuse to admit it and thereby create my own happiness! (A worthwhile goal on it's own merit.)

That's all for this evening. Stay tuned for more details about school and winter and hippies and bars and cats and rain and mushrooms and pot and sodium streetlights casting eerie twig-shadows from leafless trees into my room while I sleep. Sound interesting? Oh, good. I knew you'd like it.