January 17, 2012
Wenchie's Quest for... Whatever
Okay, I don't mean to get all existential on y'all, but what the hell am I doing with my life? And my blog? Seriously. I am a shallow, self-involved, pathetic excuse for a human being. And I blame Facebook.
I blame Facebook for reconnecting me with people I'd never otherwise reconnect with because they are living awesome, fulfilling lives and don't have time to hang out and eat cheese in yoga pants with me. But they do have time to ocassionally appear on Facebook to remind me of all that I'm not doing with my life... which is at least half over by now, let's face it.
They're either world-traveling artists or teachers of special needs children or professional orphan-and-puppy rescuers or whattheshit. It's completely disgusting. And they all have God's wondrous love to thank for it.
I'm like -- wait a minute. Last time I saw you, you were in a sleeping bag with a bottle of Goldschlagger, a flashlight, and your best friend's brother! What the hell's the matter with you?! You taught me how to smoke and insert a tampon!
Wait, that sounded weird. Those were two entirely different events. I didn't... there wasn't... oh, nevermind.
And this latest one. *seizure-inducing eyeroll* She and her husband just adopted a ten year old orphan girl. From India! Now, c'mon! That's just showing off!
I have no purpose, no direction. I'm never going to write The Great American Novel. No one is ever going to pay to read my stuff. Sometimes I can't even think of a thing to blog about. I just wrote about armpits, for Chrissake! I need to give people a reason to come here! This isn't a cooking blog, or a fashion blog, or a work blog, or a photography blog, or a pet blog. It's not even a Barbie blog! It's just a smörgåsbord blog!
You know, I read other blogs, and I find that the really good ones have a focus. And a production team. But a focus is really important. What do I do best? Why do people come here?
And to add to my looming despair, I also want to COMPLETELY REDESIGN MY ENTIRE BLOG!!! It's not fancy enough. And Heather needs a new pair of shoes. (Heather is my production team.) So I've started playing in the sidebar, which is abating my NEED FOR DRASTIC CHANGE a little bit, but not entirely.
I'm taking this baby to the next level. I mean,... don't hold your breath or anything. But yeah, next level. Me. This. Yeah.
Comments
So, ya wanna hang out and eat cheese? You can wear yoga pants, I'll wear sweats.
Posted by: some_other_dave at January 18, 2012 09:48 AM
Don't be too hard on yourself, young lady. The meek live vicariously through piratewench.org. You outrageously right wrongs and educate the victorian-slug minions on many cross-cultural and trans gender issues. Quite the public service. And it may be small consulation, but I read one news feed and every episode of your blog. Thats it. No TV, cable, internet regular news... Ok THAT is probably a little scary. Hang in there!
Posted by: Herc at January 18, 2012 10:27 AM
I don't know what's cuter, Herc -- that you think I'm young, or that you are apparently stalking me.
S.O.Dave, it's yoga pants or nothing!
Posted by: Wenchie at January 18, 2012 08:24 PM