Apropos of nothing...

It's been well over two weeks, and this poor blog space has suffered nary a note, a sentence, nor a scrawl from my hands.  If this blog were a pet, surely it would have long since passed and would be now well on it's way to an olfactory nightmare.  It's a good thing that I don't treat my cat the way that I treat this blog.  But nevertheless, I've neglected you, dear blog, and all of the opportunity with which you present me.  I'll try to be a better parent from now on.

To be quite honest, when I started this blog I carried in this hollower-than-most skull of mine fairly lofty ideals of what this blog would be.  I envisioned cutting edge commentary,  I imagined discourse that would be somewhat dangerous, terribly un-politically correct, yet informed and valid enough as to be un-ignorable.  I aimed to create a space that was controversial enough to spark an internal debate, if not a full-on cyber battle.  In the least, I hoped to avoid grammatical errors and obvious misspellings.  Sadly, I've failed.  

Mostly two months into my endeavors and all I've to show of my hopes and dreams of an online literary revolution is a couple of postings about an issue or two that were on my mind at the time, and not exactly new ideas. To be quite honest, I'm fairly disappointed in myself.  I have always wanted to write, have only ever wanted to write about what interests me (i.e., not school assignments, with the rare exception of a few), and now have an outlet in which to do so.  And what do I do with that outlet?  Why, ignore it of course!  Allow it to sit, unattended, collecting virtual dust and cobwebs, and hardly inciting any riots.    

Now, granted, I have numerous obligations in the form of a full time job (nothing noteworthy to write about there), part time schooling (a degree in communications is something that gets my juices flowing, but usually those juices are directed into papers), and a couple of DJing gigs a week that presently aren't much worth writing about.  After these few obligations have consumed whatever time it is that they require, I typically am wanting nothing more than a night at home with a good dinner that I've made for myself, a glass (or nine) of wine, and a decent netflix provided distraction.  If I'm feeling particularly sassy for my old age (I'll be 29 next month!) then I'll find myself out with some friends, tossing down a beer (or nine).  

So where does one find the time to blog??

You know, this isn't even so much of an issue of time.  I realize that part of the problem is that there is a lack of an actual problem, some sort of drama worth writing about, or political upheaval.  I'm just too damned content!  Even in my struggles, I am aware of the value of struggle, and am not fired up enough to find myself needing an outlet with which to vent.  The few occasions that may inspire some truly noteworthy venting are usually of too personal a nature and may involve others whom I don't wish to involve in my blogging venture.  

So where does this leave me?  Think Seinfeld.  Think a blog about nothing.  Think, in fact, about what you've been reading.  Instead of being fired up like a vengeful evangelist, spouting forth about fire and brimstone from my podium of this blog, I am now consuming your precious time, forcing you to read my writing about the fact that I have nothing really to write about.  But being that I have chosen to walk down a path of being an upstanding parent to my pet blog, I couldn't just leave it alone, shut out in the cold, wet Portland autumn.  I have taken the only option available to me, and have wrapped it in the loving warmth of my proverbial pen.  

Now go read something worthwhile.    

Edited to add:  A dear friend who actually inspired the title for this posting suggested that I use the random rants that she is periodically forced to listen to over lunch as fodder for future blogs.  So stay tuned, dear reader, for postings with marginally more content...