What

Sheesh! That's the last time I put pictures up! Well, okay, not really. But my formatting got all messy and you really shouldn't have to think with this prefab blogging. Not that I can't think; I can think. I just don't wanna think about formatting.

Ahem.

So my sister Meggie said, and I quote, "Now you need something to write about. Although that doesn't stop a lot of bloggers." But I'm already too mortified to say out loud, "I'm blogging." (Yeah, you and every other Tom, Dick, and Bloggy.) It's embarrassing. I'm just some twit jumping on the bandwagon. And it seems even more presumptuous to say, "I'll be writing about _____!" Like I have some special knowledge of anything that you might need to know. But she's really right, I do need something to write about. Hmm. Something to write about. An intriguing notion.

People often say I should do stand up. Of course they're idiots. I don't think most people know what a crazy-assed skill that is. You don't just get up on stage and be funny. And I'm rarely funny on purpose. People in my family just happen to talk funny. We use weird words. We have, um, uncommon? speech patterns. In all honesty, if I try to describe any further why we're "funny," you're sure to think we're just awful. I'd go so far as to say irritating even. But honestly, we're not. People seem to genuinely like us. We entertain them. But I swear, they're laughing with us, not at us. (Insert "yeah, right" here.)

We we we, what's this we, white man? I've got last child syndrome. Whenever anyone has said I'm funny or smart or any one of a number of many many compliments they shower on me, I'm always like, you think I'm funny? You should meet my sister, brother, sister, etc., etc. But currently, with the exception of my brother-in-law, none of them are blogging, so I guess I'm good.

But it's that business of what could I possibly have to say. I don't want to assume that just anyone would be amused by what I have to say. But I like the writing! And sure I could go all personal and deep (I have NO shame and have no compunction about telling you anything), but that might be sorta creepy. Maybe in time.

What do muse over writing about, since I've been thinking of it? Well. Hmm. When I read other people's stuff, I like it when they describe something that I feel all the time, but never knew anyone else felt. Is that a catharsis? Perhaps not. I could look it up and you'd never know I questioned my word choice, but it's more amusing this way.

And there are certain things I'm fascinated by. Nostalgic folderol. I like thinking about things I haven't thought about in a really long time. I enjoy bizarre new tidbits of knowledge. Wow, none of this is very elucidating, is it?

Hell, I guess we'll just see what comes out of me.

Fyi, in addition to Confessions of a Pioneer Woman, sister Meggie likes to read:
Finslippy
Dooce
Suburban Bliss
Laid-Off Dad

Maybe you already know about them and I'm just a dimwit.

Okay gang, I'll see ya,

Jo