I’m a bit constricted by my blog at times. I look around and see that most of the well-known personal blogs revolve around that blogger’s day-to-day life. I know that is obvious. I’m just noting that these writers rarely deviate from their theme. They use their blog as a journal or diary. These bloggers let you into their world, warts and all, until you feel as if you know their family — and you care about them. The best of these blogs, like Dooce, are well-written and honest.
I’ve never kept a diary. It always seemed boring to me. And I sometimes have trouble being honest. I’m not a liar. Well, I am. I don’t only lie to you. I lie to myself. That’s why I’m in therapy. So, in a way, my lying to you is being very honest. Get it?
I try to write about reality. Most everything in this blog, including my conversations with my Penis, is rooted in reality. I find it interesting that my favorite posts are almost never YOUR favorite posts. You seem to love when I write in an honest, diary style. You feel as if I connected with you because I revealed some private truth. It’s as if personal blogging is supposed to be the private become public, and dammit – he won me over with the admission that his mother washed his mouth out with soap. It doesn’t really matter that I spent twice as long crafting something really silly. The comedy never wins the Oscar.
Even if I were completely fact-based about my day to day life, I’m not sure I can effectively capture “me” through the details. What actually happened today — May 1, 2008? Sophia got a flat tire on the freeway and I came to her rescue. I bought a new tire for her car and had a cup of coffee in Denny’s. I arranged to meet with a producer. I spoke to my mother. This is all fun stuff, but most of the REALLY interesting events occurred in my head. I got annoyed about “blog badges” and wrote my last sarcastic post. I went on Craig’s List and wondered about apartment hunting. I wondered how Carly from American Idol was managing. I made a note to write a post someday about Brian Dunkleman (remember him — the comedian who co-hosted American Idol with Ryan Seacrest in season one!). I wonder if he is still pissed or if he was able to move on to a happy life. I worried about this headache that I’ve had for three days, and tried not to become a hypochondriac, fearing it is a tumor or something horrible.
Am I presenting a clear picture of my personality, and does it even matter? I had an IM conversation with someone last week who seemed to be under the impression that I was some sort of Lothario having sex chats with women in every American city. When do I have time?! Truthfully, online sex chats would be too difficult for me because I would feel obligated, as a writer, not to be cliched. How many unique ways are there to say, “So, are you unbuttoning your blouse now?”
Me: “My hand is touching you…”
Me: “Yes, there… but that’s not very descriptive. Let me go on Wikipedia and look up what it is actually called in the English language. Also, I already used “touching you” twice already. There must be some other way of saying that!”
Her: “OK, enough. I had my orgasm. Thanks. Bye.”
I would feel too much literary performance anxiety to have any fun.
I present myself as a nice Jewish boy who’s calling his mother every day, and then the next day I’m f**king four women in my bedroom. Who am I? I’m not sure I really know exactly who I am, so why should you?
But let me just stick to the blog — my writing. Would be better to focus more on the reality in my life, or continue writing whatever shit comes to my mind? The inconsistency of this blog’s tone must be very frustrating for some readers.
I can also go the other way — not caring about you, the reader, at all. That could be refreshing. That would probably be the most honest approach. I could explore different facets of my personality. I could write a post like I was a woman. I’d like to imagine what it would be like to give birth. Would that be weird for you? I’d like to be racist or nasty and say things that I don’t really believe, but not worry about your reaction. Why do I always have to write about what I believe? It might be more fun to write about someone else’s beliefs.
I’d like to finish a post without having to make the ending work.