I’m not a few other things too, but I thought I’d start with the obvious…

I find it interesting that although I’m not a writer and tend to read 30 things at the same time, that I find the time to bother the internet with my almost daily observations… And when I say, ‘FIND TIME’, I mean that I lunge for it… like its the only scoop of edamame salad left in the deli case… or the only fresh head of locally grown BIB… or the last remaining, almost ripe avocado on display… And SO WHAT if I’m obsessed with fresh foods and salads? I’m not a farmer OR a produce expert either, but I can damn near TRY, and WHO doesn’t love organic?! But did you know that I can write several paragraphs without ever even considering punctuation? That it is totally and completely unethical among all of those invested in RULES that obsessively practice GRAMMAR ?!?! Boo Hiss Boo… And who do I think I am? Well.. I’m not sure, actually — but I do know that I can type pretty gosh-darn fast without realizing that 2 1/2 hours of my day have been sucked up by the blogosphere… only to be read by some if not shunned by others for the annihilated words that I am forcing down everyone’s throats… one misplaced apostrophe at a time. And I know, we can pull out the swords and dual over writing vs. blogging, but to what end when the result lies in originality via the “written” word. Blogging allows for immediate interaction, personality, SPUNK… and while I’ve never tried to write an essay for the hell of it… I can only imagine my disappointment in not saying it all A LITTLE BIT LOUDER.  Not to mention that I find some sort of comfort here… in writing about delusions, whatnots and boondocks… And yes, just in case you are wondering, I am aware that I am doing it wrong… And, considering that I am surrounded by highly educated individuals… some of which are writers themselves and are overwhelmingly powerful when it comes to VERSE and the almighty SNARK, I really should CARE about the fact that I’m doing it wrong… But I don’t. I don’t care.

I don’t care that I’m not a writer but I’m doing it anyway… And just to prove this fact to myself and everyone else out there that gives two cents, I have invested in myself and will be attending the 2010 BlogHer conference this Friday and Saturday. And I know, who am I kidding…. Me, who hides here, typing away… loving the internet because it allows me to make connections without having to talk to anyone.. I’m actually going to get up, leave this seat and join thousands of other bloggers in New York City… if only to see if I can feel like I’m doing something. If only to attempt to embrace exactly what the hell this thing is that I’ve gotten myself into… If only to finally meet a few individuals face to face (finally) and to find some rational explanation for how and why they find themselves here… with me, but not really. And while I’m there, and before I freeze into a solid block of introverted, overly air-conditioned ice, I do hope to bustle some sense out of all of this… Because time here is too comforting to be considered wasteful, and I never like to throw anything away.

So, while this may be my only post this week as I attempt to wiggle my flip flop addicted feet into the shoes that are currently comfortable, I just want to let it be known that I am fully aware. That although I took a few English classes — I do not have a license  to drive. That my skills in typing and knowledge of design software and editing tools does not a writer make… I’m also aware of what a bad dancer I am, that I can’t parallel park for my life AND that acting like you know something when you really don’t only works when you make yourself believe it first [case-in-point]. And finally, in summing it up because I can totally hear you backing away… When we meet, please don’t mistake my poker face for snobbery… I’m not silently judging you and I barely know how to play Go Fish…  All that’s happening is void, and I’m totally aware of it.

Oh and while we were busy fanning ourselves… We also made Pesto more popular. TODAY.  Yeah, that’s right — stick that in your English Lit. pipe and…