Jumping the blogging shark
I think my toenails are very interesting.
The toes to which they are attached are kind of curly and twisty, except the one I broke, which is nice and straight now. This means that I have to keep my toenails constantly trimmed short. Since the motivation for doing so involves bloodshed, I'm pretty good at remembering to do that.
This morning as I trimmed my toenails I thought to myself "That's interesting. I think my toenails are growing a bit faster these days. I wonder if it's a sign of my generally improved health, or perhaps better circulation in the warmer weather. Perhaps the two are related."
But then I realised I was using my compose-a-blog-entry internal voice, and another thought intruded:
"Dude. You're thinking about blogging about your toenails. Is there room on the Internet (sorry, 'teh intarwebs') for that? Really? Hmmm?"
Eventually the argument that this observation is indeed of personal clinical interest won out, so here we are, with a proper tag and all. But for a while there I wondered if I was contemplating an online jump-the-shark moment.
So, folks, have you faced that moment at the keyboard? Did you stop yourself out of shame? Did you justify the importance of you entry to your future self, if no-one else? Did you post away because damnit, a person's blog is their castle (and probably with better plumbing)? Tell me, and please be honest; it's for science.
The toes to which they are attached are kind of curly and twisty, except the one I broke, which is nice and straight now. This means that I have to keep my toenails constantly trimmed short. Since the motivation for doing so involves bloodshed, I'm pretty good at remembering to do that.
This morning as I trimmed my toenails I thought to myself "That's interesting. I think my toenails are growing a bit faster these days. I wonder if it's a sign of my generally improved health, or perhaps better circulation in the warmer weather. Perhaps the two are related."
But then I realised I was using my compose-a-blog-entry internal voice, and another thought intruded:
"Dude. You're thinking about blogging about your toenails. Is there room on the Internet (sorry, 'teh intarwebs') for that? Really? Hmmm?"
Eventually the argument that this observation is indeed of personal clinical interest won out, so here we are, with a proper tag and all. But for a while there I wondered if I was contemplating an online jump-the-shark moment.
So, folks, have you faced that moment at the keyboard? Did you stop yourself out of shame? Did you justify the importance of you entry to your future self, if no-one else? Did you post away because damnit, a person's blog is their castle (and probably with better plumbing)? Tell me, and please be honest; it's for science.
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In general I think I tend to be more concerned with posting too often; I try to keep to at most one a day most of the time, but then wonder if 'that thing I was going to post about two days ago' is still relevant.
ObToenails: I need to keep mine well trimmed whenever I go dancing in the shoes pictured, or damage ensues. Also, one edge of each big-toenail (that next to the adjacent toe) has been folded over since some time in my late teens. There is indeed room on teh intarwebs for such observations, and my thanks for broaching the subject.
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I don't know. My LJ is where I put all sorts of stuff that I sometimes think may be of little or no interest to others. The kyoot kid stories are particularly there for my future self, as I kept finding myself forgetting the things I'd told myself to remember. As it turns out, they have a small but enthusiastic audience; and everyone else can move along if they're not interested.
ETA: I was just having a discussion about ambient intimacy elsewhere, where I tried (and possibly failed) to make the point that what is so reviled by opinion editors and stuck-up people can be useful in all sorts of ways. For me, I like the little slices of life on people's eljays, however trivial, because I just can't access this sort of chatter in my meatspace. The internet is the virtual watercooler (or coffeehouse, or playgroup, or pub) for people like me isolated due to disability. And frankly I'm sick to death of able-bodied folk slamming electronic communication and community as a meaningless half-life signifying a person as a pathetic contemptible loser.
I'm tangenting here. I should probably put this into a blog post of my own!
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