okay, so picture this.
i'm sitting in my bedroom with a gigantic bow in my hair that i got in kindergarten. my room is dark because i think that lights waste energy half the time. i'm sitting in my circle pod chair that's covered in pillows and blankets. my feet are crossed, and my god, i'm still listening to kanye west rapping power out of my ihome.
hi, you're looking at me right now.
tomorrow my parents are leaving me to go on vacation (i'm sure there will be a blog about this later this week) and i was hanging out with them when i got back from one of the greatest grad parties ever, minus those terrible little bloodsuckers that really like my perfume. (mosquitoes, not boys, what kind of girl do you think i am?!)
i like to hang out with my parents. i love them. they're cool. they're extremely intelligent. my dad is hilarious. my mom is short. (i'm obviously not.) they're fantastic people.
so we're hanging out in the kitchen and my mom yawns and says something along the lines of, "oh dear, it's getting late, we have a flight to catch in the morning, it's bed time."
my mind says, "oh fuck i haven't blogged yet today. fuck fuck fuck." but i'm nice and keep my swear words in my head like a good little girl. i try not to have a foul mouth. a foul mind is bad enough.
so i say, "oh shoot, i have to blog today! what should i blog about?"
i'm greeted by complete silence. i've expected this. it's pretty much a rhetorical question. my parents, even though they're cool enough to have facebooks, don't truly understand blogging, but heck, i don't either, do i?
so then i tell them that i had a dream earlier in the week that involved a few kids that i coach telling me what i should blog about. my roommate, honest to god, interprets dreams, and i'm pretty sure that she would interpret my dream the way that i did this one: i'm stressed about my job and about this whole blog every day in june go! challenge. my mother then asks me why on earth i'd be stressed about blogging.
and then i said, well, i have READERS!
even though i don't particularly care, i check my stats. it's nice to know that someone out there is reading whatever you feel like posting on the internet, not just the eighteen people who are crazy enough to follow me on twitter. (shameless ploy, @emilyyxh, check it.) so anyway, i check my stats. and then i realized something.
there are a decent amount of you. yes, you. readers. and you're not all from the united states like me.
no, you're from cool places like denmark. and australia. and canada. i've even had someone read my blog who's from russia.
at this point, i'm really hoping you all can read english, because otherwise viewing my blog is pointless. sure, i've said a few phrases in spanish and had that cool zulu thing going on in my lion king blog, but other than that, i do that english thang.
speaking of english and other languages, i got really excited when i realized that when i become fluent, i can speak spanish at home to my children. as my father says, children adapt, and even if my husband doesn't speak spanish, they'll pick up on it. they can speak spanish with mommy and english with daddy. and when they're old enough, they'll realize which langauge i use when i'm really pissed. it will probably be spanish.
but i digress. i have way more viewers than i thought was possible. and then my father asked me why someone would actually want to read my blog.
that sounds like a mean thing to ask, but it's a curious, harmless question. i don't think my parents have the ability to be mean, so i know that it was a curious question. and then i realized i have no answer.
why do you, reader, read my blogs?
i'm not good at blogging. i'm a twenty year old girl who lives in the midwest who blogs about crazy things like the lion king, serial killers, learning to drive a stick shift, maybe one day hoping to be a spanish teacher, and about the craziness of my life. i'll repeat the first part of this paragraph (can you call it a paragraph if it's not five sentences like they taught you in middle school?) and say, i'm not good at blogging.
maybe i am and i'm not giving myself credit. i tend to do that. i really believe i suck at everything until enough people tell me i'm good at it. and then i only half believe them. this doesn't mean i'm not a confident person, because i am very confident in myself and my abilities. but i honestly believe i'm not just good at blogging.
so thanks for reading, whatever country you're from. the more you read, the more stressed i become about writing something that i feel is decent, and the more likely it is to pop into my dreams. which is fine. because i'm still having those back pain drug induced psychdelic ones and i'm losing my precious z's to them.
to answer the question that i asked my parents earlier, that question my parents thought was perhaps rhetorical, my mother said, "you could blog about how you cooked a lasagna today and it was the first time you've ever really cooked in your life."
keep your eyes out for that blog. i'm sure it'll come before this challenge is over.