Paul (my Husband) and I watched Julie & Julia the other night, and a few things have been sticking in my head ever since…A few slightly troubling things.

First of all, quick synopsis:
A modern day girl named Julie is bored with her life and decides to cook all 524 (or something like that) recipes in Julia Child’s French cookbook and document it in a blog. As we watch this storyline unfold, we also get to see a portion of Julia Child’s life around the time she published said cookbook.

As we sat on the couch, we both (Paul more so than I) became progressively annoyed by the Julie character as the blog became a bigger part of her life. Relationship problems began to crop up, as well as cheesy temper tantrums and pity parties. I found myself thinking, “Jeezo, what a selfish, egotistical…”

…Uh, oh…

Internal dilemma time. I knew when I began this endeavor that these thoughts would be popping up. Back when I first stumbled upon this thing called “blogging,” I was pretty sure that it must be the stupidest, most vain thing I had ever, ever heard of. Seriously, these people’s egos must have their own gravitational pulls. Why would I ever be interested in what is going on in this person’s life? Why would this person think I (or anyone) would care?

Hmmm… This one is a thinker for me. Why am I enjoying blogging so much? Is it because I think the world revolves around me?
Well, no.
Do I get my jollies from all the attention?
Well, maaayyybe…but not too many jollies! Only like, two jollies.
Do I think I possess knowledge that is entirely crucial to the rest of the world’s well being?
Sheesh, no!

So what’s the deal?
After a few days of thinking, my brain has come up with some explanations. First of all, Imiss miss miss writing. I even miss waking up at 4 am to finish a Victorian Lit paper that Itotally should have started on five days earlier.
I, however, do not miss waking up to finish any kind of Teacher Education paper. Ugh.

There’s just something awesome about the click click click of the keyboard and the act of filling up that “Untitled” page with rows and rows of your favorite font. I miss thinking things in my head and molding them into something tangible (well, tangible if you print it out…or touch the screen…).

So there’s that, the whole writing bit, but I still haven’t addressed the narcissism. Probably because I’m still having a hard time with it. The more I forced myself to think about it, the more I realized that this “blogging high” I’m experiencing feels an awful lot like the “Theatre high” I would get on stage. Being up there, in front of a bunch of people, putting your hard work on display is such a huge rush. Who knows? People could love what you’re doing or they could just hate it. Similar to the way I read and review my lines, I write and review my blogs. I prepare material and then present it to an audience, and it is scary and awesome.
So, all in all, I don’t think it’s because of my love of me that makes me blog; I think it’s my love of putting myself out there.

Finally, I thought about the blogs that I follow. Why am I following this person’s blog? What does it have to offer me? Some of them are written by friends or family that I want to keep up with. Others provide useful information that I can use in my business.

My favorite ones, however, entertain me with material I can relate to.

That, I think, is the other factor. I know there are plenty of other people who encounter situations just like I do, and sometimes the only thing that makes us feel better is knowing that we’re not alone. I’m sure there is someone out there who probably slams his or her knee on the baby gate at least 12 times a day, or was in love with Jonny Quest when they were in Junior High, or practices revenge speeches in the mirror while they put on their makeup or brush their teeth. If I can put my thoughts out into the universe and have a few people feel connected or at the very least, distracted, I’m going to be pretty darned pleased.

It doesn’t mean that I think the world revolves around me. Or that I can eradicate hunger and cure cancer with my words. It means that I know there are people out there who are just as scatterbrained and irrational as me…and it’s more fun to be one of the weirdos than it is to be a weirdo all by yourself.