Once upon a time, there was a Less-Blog-Obsessed Dani. She’s currently on vacation with Sane Dani and Healthy Dani and No Anxiety Dani, somewhere in the Mediterranean. Santorini, is my best guess. I am here, instead, eating hummus on mini-croissants and watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.
I was in junior high, when I started my first blog. My background was a picture of London, at night. Everything was dedicated to London, to the idea of getting out of the States and living above a locally-owned book store in what I perceived to be the World’s Greatest City. There wasn’t much writing on my blog. Most of my time was spent reformatting the pages to look just so. Dark, with the text in platinum, as though the words were my light, guiding me toward London and away from the fear I had grown to associate with my locus.
Today, I have seven? active blogs — one for each of my personalities. Joking. If you have Dissociative Identity Disorder, and I have just offended you, I apologize. Seven active blogs. Four, including this one, are public. Two are places for me to vent where no one can come in to my room, look for a pair of socks, and happen upon my pages of inked-in-Sharpie venting sessions. Most spiral-bound notebooks do not come password-protected. The last one is how Jennifer and I keep in touch, when he visits his family in Canada and I am relegated to the status of a socially awkward conspiracy theorist who does sudoku and watches too many crime dramas (from my previous position as the same sort of human person, but with friends…a friend…singular…).
Like the boxes in my brain, I create new blogs as a way to start over, or regroup, or do some in-house mental feng shui. To compartmentalize:
Me: Ooooh! I will create a blog specifically dedicated to my personal crusade against slut-shaming and misogyny.
Brain: Great! And your second post will be about Tumblr and the need for pictures of cute cats.
Me: But I already have a blog dedicated to cute cats. That is why I created a Tumblr account in the first place.
Brain: Your point being…?
And so forth.
Very little balance is restored. And yet, I continue to try.
The more I blog, the more I read blogs. I sometimes dream about being the person whose witty comments make the day of some person I have never met. Whose blog is one of the cute “Most Visited” tiles on Google Chrome’s New Tab page. But, until that day arrives, I will find contentment in reading the witticisms of other lovely bloggers. Bloggers more eloquent than I could ever be.
But I keep trying, nonetheless. I’m like The Little Engine That Could…without coal. Or inclines. I don’t do inclines.