If A Tree Starts a Blog in the Forest, Will the Other Trees Get Off Their Butts and Start One, Too?

The other day I accidentally set something in motion. It was such a simple thing, and I had no idea where it would lead. Here's what I did: I told several of my friends about a blog I've been reading lately--well, perhaps "become addicted to" is a better descriptor. I knew they would love it; after all, I do, and they're my friends, which means we have common interests and likes. So they took up the reins and adored it, too. Simple enough, right? I like a web site, I share it, everybody has one more thing to distract them from their real jobs, and we're all happy. Right?

But no. One friend took it a step further. While I was content to merely peruse the blog on a daily basis, she, bold, self-determined gal that she is, decided that we all should blog. She even dared to imply that blogging doesn't have to be just for the strong and the wise, that it can also be for dorkheads like us. So what did she do? She just up and made her own blog! And guess what? Friend #2 followed suit immediately! So here I sat, still watching my VHS tapes and gloating about the fact that I just figured out how to make group lists on my e-mail while they jumped right in and Got Busy. Wow.

So now I've made a blog. Dragging my feet all the way, scared of making the commitment, terrified of having people read it, even more terrified to find out that no one's reading it...well, it's all great fodder for therapy, isn't it? Nevertheless, here it is.

The truth is, I love that I have friends who jump right into life with both feet. They inspire me and guide me. Without them, I'd have a laundry list of great ideas but nothing to show for it. A little peer pressure does me good. In that spirit, I offer you two things: first, the e-mail from Friend #1 enthusiastically suggesting that we do this, along with my response; and 2) links to my respective gal pals' blogs. They're fantastic. I mean really good. They talk about dog poop and Social Security. So here we go (and please note that, although "Moi" says that creating a blog is far beyond her techie ability, within 2 days she had that sucker up and going. What a friggin' liar...):

The gauntlet is thrown:
Ladies, In speaking briefly with J. last night about Pioneer Woman it was generally agreed between the two of us that Ree will either immediately inspire us to:A. Commence forthwith to upping our own antes in churning out similarly brilliant prose,OrB. Slouch ever so slowly towards the twin demons of intimidation/procrastination and never, ever again pick up pen or put fingers to keyboard except to toss out an occasional email or hunt and peck out our latest celebrity gossip Web site (okay, that’s ME, you all know what your particulars are)So in a frantic effort to prevent that from happening, and because I function best if there are some rules and order to life (I mean, seriously, if I were out there on that ranch with even the merest hint of domestic help, I most likely would spend my days Ranger Rovering my over-aerobicized ass to Tulsa or Oklahoma City to lunch and brunch and shop for shoes. Would I, lacking economic imperative, rise above and snatch the reigns of industry from the sweaty grip of indulgency and diligently hone my creative talents each and every day for years until they shone like shiny little objects? Anyone’s guess, including my own. Hence, my need for rules . . . And those last two mixed metaphors should let you know just how much in need of them I am.)Anyway . . . As if we don’t each have enough to do already. Except for J. Yeah, J. can do this. She’s retired. My suggestion? Our own blogs. Not necessarily published on the Internet. That is so beyond my technical capabilities at this point and if there’s one thing that awes me more more than Pioneer Woman’s writing ability, it’s her Web building ability and I for one can’t match that. But blogs nonetheless. That means daily writings in our own diaries of life to keep us polished in our skills. Hey, you got the techie skills to match? Go for it! Put that sucker on the Internet. Otherwise, we can share amongst ourselves . . .But here’s the main thing: I think the value of personal essay/diary writing is that it forces writers to make magic out of the mundane, hence sharpening our tools of observation and reportage for our other writing.If you’re up for it, you don’t have to do much except write a little something Bloggy every day and “post” to each other (we three certainly – and anyone else you feel like sending your thoughts out to). If you can’t post one day, then let everyone know and shoot for the next. Or the next. But don’t let more than a couple days go by or you’ll lose momentum.Of course, you may also tell me to go frig myself, you’re busy enough as it is. But what fun would there be in that? Other than of course, using the word frig in a sentence.Write on, ladies. Moi

The timid and grumpy respond (that would be me):
Oh ma gawd, you people just exhaust me with your self-determination and such. Commit? To writing? Your idea is fabulous and exciting and scary. It requires dedication and follow-through, which I mention only to point out that I am in no way fit for this project. I’m much too…hmm…what’s the word? Apathetic. Just thinking about it has led me to layer fritos with cheese, melt them in the microwave, and shove the results in my mouth in one big cheesied blob. With beer.

If you promise me that I can write about fritos and cheese and hairballs and fluffy cats and idgits on the road and, *most* of all, my perimenopause, then I just might be able to do it. But only if I don’t have to use capital letters. Or say anything pithy or worthwhile. Or write more than a sentence.

-apathetic, lower-case me

And here are their blogs:
http://bitetheapple64.blogspot.com
http://macbeanadventures.blogspot.com

So there you go. I'll keep posting blogs, at least until I get distracted by something shiny. You'll simply have to excuse the minimalism of my page; I'm sure that, sometime within the next 6 months or so, I'll figure out how to add pictures and do fancy stuff. Until then, I am yours in simplicity.

~WickedThistle