The Road to Blogdom

So today is International Webloggers Day. How lucky am I that I joined this community only a week before such an important event! I hope it's a paid holiday, especially since I have done little else today but read blogs and watch Buffy reruns. Speaking of which, who do I call about paid blogger vacation days anyway?

Many people are taking this opportunity to write about what got them started on the road to blogdom. Because I have not had an original thought all day, I will follow suit. Besides, it's a good story. Well, I think it's a good story. You may not. If you don't, I'm sure you will inform me of this in the comments section. Keep in mind I am very sensitive, so if you don't like my story, go fuck yourself.

My mom called me last week to tell me that she ran into the mother of a boy I knew a long time ago. She told me all about how successful he is now, married, kids, blah blah blah. I had a massive crush on this boy in junior high that dissipated in high school after a night of smooching on the beach. Not that he didn't smooch well, but it just sort of didn't live up to my adolescent expectations. I thought there would be hearts and flowers and angels singing. Instead I got sand in my underwear and a hickey on my collarbone. After we hung up, I did what every other single white female does in the 21st century after hearing about a lost love - I Googled him.

His name is not all that common, so I got about 1000 links - which if you know anything about Googling - is not a lot. In comparison, my name brings up 3,000,000 links, all due to some writer named Christine Brooke-Rose who is clearly taking up all of my Google space. And dammit - now I have added yet another link to her name. Anyway, I looked at some of the sites that listed his name, but couldn't seem to locate him. I even hit the images link to see if I could find a photo, but the only picture was of a middle-aged man with receding hair and very unfashionable eyewear. I searched again under the links, and finally found the website of where he works. Right job and right area, must be the right one. I clicked on his name, and the picture of the middle-aged man with receding hair and very unfashionable eyewear popped on my screen. To say I was completely and utterly freaked out would be an understatement. I could actually feel myself going into shock. This guy used to look like George Clooney - now he looks like George Costanza. I suddenly felt....oh my God....old.

In my middle-aged panic, I began frantically Googling every boy I had ever had a crush on, dated, or known in even the slightest biblical sense. The ones with the All-American boy names were impossible to find unless I wanted to devote the rest of the summer to sorting through the 11,000,000 or so links, so I crossed them off the list and decided that they are still hot. I found a couple of my Aussie exes, and thankfully they looked good - different - but still good. I found a few others that looked pretty much the same - a little older - but still pretty much the same. I started feeling a little better. I could feel my legs again. I decided to Google the aforementioned beautiful boy from my Maybe I'm a Little Gay post. I typed in his name, hit search, and then images.

The very first picture listed was him. Black and white. Shirtless. Modeling. Yes you read that right, modeling. He is in his 40's, and he is modeling with no shirt on. I wasn't sure which was more shocking, seeing the middle-aged man with the receding hairline or the uber-stud in his shorts. I clicked on the picture, followed the link, and came upon a blog. What the hell is this? What the hell is a blog? Some sort of online journal it seems, where people scan pictures from local magazines of half naked men. I'm in. (The blogger actually described him as beefcake). I decided to click the Next Blog button at the top of the screen, and three hours of reading later, I was signed up and writing my first post.

And that is how I found myself on the road to blogdom. I am spending more time on my computer than ever, which is hard to believe, but it has been a fabulous creative outlet. I did hesitate about putting my real name on my blog, but I figured as long as I don't mention real names or sexual situations, I should be ok. Besides, now I may actually pop up on Google!