Sometimes, it annoys me that I chose to start this blog instead of a real one.
don’t get me wrong – i love this blog. i love ranting and raving and puking (oh my!).
i think my original idea for this blog was genius.
and, even though some of the posts aren’t as wonderful or humorous as they could be, some of them (for instance, the public restroom post or the medication side-effects post – my favorites) are real gems.
once in a while, i can be pretty damn funny.
sometimes, i even incite a few actual lols – loling in real life, that is.
however, sometimes i find myself wanting to tell some fun, real-life stories.
like the time we took the kids to a carnival and my son, pointing to the zipper, exclaimed, “THAT RIDE SCARES THE FUCK OUT OF ME!”
or how my daughter dances on command, or claps whenever there is applause on tv (and how amazing and wonderful it is that she is walking now, and how proud and excited she is when she does it).
or when Dr. Hoxter and i are playing halo, and wind up on maps and/or with people we don’t like, so we just throw sticky grenades at ourselves or jump off of cliffs the entire game. or do synchronized dancing.
or how Twinny and i call everyone we play with John.
sometimes i’d like to share poetry or short stories and shit.
lord knows, i have a shit-ton of that crap to share.
i mean sure, there’s the poetry club…but i’m constantly writing, and the club only does one ‘share’ a week, and most of what i write is completely unrelated to the topic at the time.
and then there are nights like tonight, where i feel a powerful urge to vent about real life.
to just sit down at the computer and let it all out through my fingertips…all the cold, bitter, pathetic truths that come out after midnight, in the dark.
like the fact that i can’t find that ONE missing sock in the laundry.
or that this bar stool hurts my lower back like a bitch, and makes one or both of my legs go numb when i sit here for too long.
or how most of the time i prefer to be alone…but at night, when i turn off the light and climb into my king-sized bed, i am so utterly and painfully lonely.
Sometimes, I think about starting a ‘real’ blog.
But let’s be real: who the fuck would read it?
and honestly, the times i legitimately feel like writing something profound or worthwhile or witty are too few and far between to keep people interested, i think.
those…two people who might actually read it to begin with.
Nights like tonight, though, I secretly wish I could blog as Me, and not Miss Puke.
you know, so i could talk about all my feelings and emotions and shit.
but alas…i’ve made a commitment to keep this thing going. i’ve no plans of stopping anytime soon.
and you do have my word that i will try to post more often. with actual humorous subject matter. promise.
and don’t worry, i also promise not to clutter up this blog with my feelings.
God, I’m such a sappy emo fuck!
WTF, mates? 