Holy Shit, People, I Will Dare (.com) is 16 years old today!

Get a load of this, if my blog were a human, she could go take her driver’s license test today. And if she were like me she would totally ruin her 16th birthday by failing her test and then commence being a total bummer the rest of the day.

I’m not sure if this milestone is something I should be proud of or a little ashamed of. Blogging is positively archaic, and not cool archaic like typewriters and triceratops. It’s pathetically archaic like fax machines and the busy signal.

And blogging on a personal website all by yourself about yourself? I should probably die of embarrassment, because who does that? If I Will Dare were a human she would be disavow any knowledge of my existence, because OMG, old people, amirite?

I was here before the trend started, at the heyday, and now long after it has died. Let’s chalk it up to stubbornness and not giving a shit. I like typing in this little window, hitting publish, and having my words live out in the ether. I never cared if anyone ever read them. I still don’t. This blog was started for my amusement and remains because I am still amused by it. Plus, the iwilldare.com domain name is pretty bitchen. This is the place my blog was born and probably where it will die. I never switched domains or quit and restarted. Just mostly steady writing in this ethereal place for sixteen years.

SIXTEEN YEARS!

I still remember making I Will Dare in the wee small hours of July 2000, chain smoking at the dining room table I used as a desk in that shitty apartment in Prior Lake, HTML for Dummies at my feet, and the Blogger instructions printed out on the table next to me. I remember that feeling of elation when I hit refresh and there was the sentence I typed alive on the Internet. I WAS A GOLDEN GOD!

Ahh, I’m getting a little misty-eyed with nostalgia. Thinking about all the men who flitted through my heart; all those posts about my crushing loneliness; that cloying, attention-seeking writing voice I had for much longer than a care to admit; all those sentences that lack capital letters. . . gah! I could die.

Sixteen motherfucking years. I feel like a deserve a merit badge or that lucrative Nutter Butter sponsorship I’ve been after for like thirteen years. I know I will get nothing. This is a day important only to me, and that’s okay, because it’s kind of the whole point of this joint, you know?

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4 Comments

  1. Donna Trump 31.Jul.16 at 1:50 pm

    Happy anniversary, I Will Dare. 16 years looks good on you.

    Reply
  2. Deb 31.Jul.16 at 5:47 pm

    Congratulations! I started following you on Twitter a few years ago after Mayor Tabke responded to something you tweeted and then found your blog. I love your writing style and humor. But also they way you open up your thoughts and feelings. I can relate to your feelings of being different (you because of your height, me because of my size). I’ve especially been drawn to stories of your family and love laughing along with you as you care for the Tibbles. You are a warm and loving person and it shows in your writing. Thanks for letting this aging, suburban mom into your world.

    Reply
  3. heather 02.Aug.16 at 10:31 am

    happy birthday, iwilldare!

    Reply
  4. Jenn 03.Aug.16 at 3:10 pm

    Happy birthday! Although I took a break somewhere in the middle – and I very rarely comment – I’ve been along for a number of years and have loved following along (and getting to know you a little bit on twitter as well). I wish you nothing but good things.

    Reply

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