What IS This?
My boyfriend isn’t a big fan of blogs, mine or anybody else’s. “What is a BLOG?!” He’d scream while I typed on my laptop, denying him the chance to propose trades in his Fantasy Basketball League (also known as the League Dedicated to Driving Nora Insane). “Why don’t you BLOG about it,” he’d say when I reminded him that it is his only duty in life to do the dishes, “But first, tell me what a blog is. WHAT IS A BLOG?!”
Boyfriend is a private person. He isn’t pleased when I try to photograph his frequent nosebleeds, or when I tell his co-workers about the time in High School when I put mayonnaise on his brownie and he got so mad he chased me into a freshman Spanish class and shoved the brownie up my nose.
My life is a huge melting pot of friends and family. If you’re my friend, you’re going to be on a first-name basis with my mom, you’re going to laugh at my sister’s jokes, and you’re going to be terrified of my father. That’s just the way it goes.
My big sister started her blog years ago, back when the Internet was just for geeks and pedophiles. That’s how she met her husband, who built this site for me and another site for my big brother. Mom soon followed suit, followed, last week, by my little brother. A good number of my funny friends have blogs, too. This entire paragraph kind of makes me think I might be a loser, but whatever. It’s how we keep up with each other, entertain each other, and keep track of our own lives as well. And my friends don’t seem to mind my Mom commenting on their sites.
Boyfriend’s life is more compartmentalized. He booked a trip back to Minnesota for two weeks in June, a fact I only found out when I heard him booking the trip on his cell phone. “Oh,” he said, “I mean, you can come home if you want to. I mean, I can’t STOP you, can I?” How romantic.
So you can imagine how he feels about the fact that his sister, his brother-in-law, and his brother-in-law’s sister and I are all reading and commenting on each other’s BLOGS. He’s annoyed, he’s a little nervous. It’s the meeting of his two worlds. He doesn't know for certain that this isn't an indication of the end of the world. He doesn't know that the Earth won't split open and swallow him whole. All he knows is that somehow, through the power of the Internet, his girlfriend is somehow communicating with members of his family. PERHAPS even about him. We aren’t. At least not usually. But maybe that would bother him even more.
The solution, of course, would be for him to get involved. Maybe to read what all the fuss is about. Maybe to make comments and join the conversation. But probably not. Because for him, the Internet is about fantasy basketball and emails. And I never did tell him what a blog is, anyway.
Nora, I have this awesome picture of a baby David in a dress with a little headband on. It's from back in the day when my sister and I babysat him and affectionately called him Molly. Think I should post it? He'd like that, right?
Aw, tell David not to worry about it. There are worse things than mayonnaise up the nose. After all, I have the entire Vast Right Wing Conspiracy (Eric's family) linked to my blog. It's all good.
To make it even worse for him you could commiserate with Eric's middle sister. www.happyinthemiddle.blogspot.com Her husband is also sort of David-like about this whole blogging thing.
Funny that you're entire family is blogging and I read them, and yet NO ONE in my family blogs. And, while my family uses the Internet, they don't even know my blog exists.
Oh...but the McInernys do!
I'm with David. I don't know what all this blogging nonsense is about, but I would like my wife to stop it. In fact, I'm only obsessively posting stuff on my own blog so that I can keep tabs on what she's up to. Not because I like doing it.
Is it completly freaky that Jill and Stevil are Capricorns and Eric and I are Cancers? That little nugget of knowledge would might never have been discovered in the "real" world. i.e. the off-line world. Now, through the miracle of BLOGS, I click a couple of times and so much is revealed. Interesting tidbits that might have taken countless hours of small talk and awkward moments. Really, David should get into blogging, because real interaction with people is not actually required. He might like that aspect.
I didn't even watch Desperate Housewives or Gray's Anatomy tonight! That's how obsessive I've gotten with blogging.
Hey Nora - I'm your boyfriends-sisters-husbands-middle sister - got that? Anyway, I secretly started a blog last week and somehow it got linked onto my older's sisters blog and . . . well, now I guess I am a blogger. My husband gave me one blogging rule - no writing about him. I made him look at my first post (dragged him kicking and screaming to the computer)only to have him complain because I mentioned him in the blog. Well, I learned my lesson. . . leave him out of my blogging life and we get along just great!
For the record, if David Coyle did have a blog, it would probably be my start page.
i can't help but be reminded of the following monologue delivered by ll cool j as patrick zevo in 1992's toys:
I can't even eat. The food keeps touching. I like military plates, I'm a military man, I want a military meal. I want my string beans to be quarantined! I like a little fortress around my mashed potatoes so the meatloaf doesn't invade my mashed potatoes and cause mixing in my plate! I HATE IT when food touches! I'm a military man, you understand that? And don't let your food touch either, please?
Let's talk about the people who have blogs and update them every 6 months---aka ME. You are f-ing hilarious and i live vicariously through you.
The blog revolution has sounded the death knell of the codex. It was a good run, but all things come to an end.
I discussed the possibility of starting a blog earlier this evening with the second coolest girl of all time. We agreed that while we would rather not be the last two people to jump on the bandwagon, we would be doing the world a disservice by not posting the sweetest blog on the net.
Nora, I cannot say that I read many blogs. Most of them are either poorly-written or bore me to tears. However, yours is refreshing and the best one, ever. One day, I'm going to tell my grandkids, "Yeah, I read Nora's blog before she won the Pulitzer..."
I write the truth.
--Ernie Fontana
Let's not forget the rest of the right-wing conspriracy: your boyfriend's sister's husband's oldest sister, who actually wondered if you would approve of a certain t-shirt for working out in. Minnehaha Mama assured me you would, BTW.
Oh I approve of all workout-wear that is not spandex based. Unless you're Jane Fonda and it's the 80s, in which case spandex is your only option. But all skanked-out t-shirts are more than approved. Carry on!
George Costanza from Seinfeld wanted to keep his groups separated too. Let's hope this is the only thing David has in common with George.
Eric's Mom