If this were 2002 it would be perfectly okay and, well, accepted (and since I’m a woman blogging in 2002 applauded) to blog about the delicious sandwich I had for lunch (salami & provolone on a hearty italian roll) and the fact that I’m listening to “Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key” on repeat.
(Parenthetical aside [which were also quite big in 2002 blogging]: did I ever tell you about that time I went to the Country Music Hall of Fame and they had some sort of Woody Guthrie display that made me burst into tears? Well, I did. I went through a serious Woody/American Folk Music phase when I was about twenty-five)
But this is not 2002 and now we’re supposed to be serious professional bloggers with agendas and goals and editorial calendars. Barf.
However, having lived through blogging in 2002 (and my fair share of posts about sandwiches most of which I deleted), I know that a post about a sandwich is no good. So I will include a picture of a robot The Tibbles and I fell in love with at the MN State Fair this weekend.
Wait, grown-up bloggers aren’t supposed to blog about sandwiches?!?! This brave new world is a scary place. What the hell else am I going to write about?
I’ve decided (as of 49 seconds ago) that grown-up blogging is for losers, wonks, and wannabes. Bring on the sandwiches!
Good. I think you should make a list of your favorite sandwiches so I can tell you how wrong you are.
In other news, I’ve commented over here before, haven’t I? These can’t really be my first I Will Dare comments, can they?
A sandwich list would be impossible because each one is unique. Have you ever had a really good sandwich and tried to replicate it the next day only to be stuck eating a mediocre sandwich?
We all have. Sandwiches are difficult and a list of the best would be pointless.
(also you commented once before in 2006.)
Have you ever had a really good sandwich and tried to replicate it the next day only to be stuck eating a mediocre sandwich?
No, I haven’t. All my sandwiches are delicious.
(Man, that comment was a long time ago.)
You are either delusional or you’ve never actually created a truly great sandwich. I’m going with delusion.
(four years passes in a blink of an eye, doesn’t it?)
Forget the sandwiches. What I want to know is this: If I click on the ad over there for Newman’s Own Frozen Pizzas, do you get a nickel?