After forty-seven years on this planet I can admit I do not have very much to be smug about. I’m not wildly popular or famous or fashionable or beautiful or sexy or rich or ambitious or successful or I dunno other things people are smug about. I’m an Angry Hermit/Spinster who believes people should be in awe of my good taste* and is consistently disappointed when they aren’t.
I do, however, have one lone thing I can be smug about and that is blogging. Since I only have the one thing I am very super smug about it whenever the occasion arises. It does not rise very often, but when it does OH BOY!
Lucky for you the occasion arose today when I read Blogging Then and Now and My Journey Through My Suck Hole of a Blog. There is nothing wrong with the post. It’s just about one man’s experience with blogging. It’s perfectly pleasant and fine.
However, when the author talked about blogging way back when in 2008, I spit out my coffee, shook my fist at the sky, and shouted “GET OFF MY LAWN.”
By 2008 I had already ruined the Internet for everyone I love. I’d gone from Blogger to Greymatter to Movable Type to WordPress (which wasn’t even a thing until I was three years into this blogging nonsense).
Does this make me a better blogger, writer, person than the author of that blog post? Yes, yes it does.**
In five weeks, I Will Dare will be nineteen years old and I think that is something worthy of being smug about.
*I’m in the process of choosing a new couch to buy. I keep making the mistake of asking Sister #4, “What do you think?” And, inevitably she does not love the couch of my heart. She wants something that plugs in and reclines and ups the seating in this joint for all the asses that need seats at Christmas.
**It does not.