I do this horrible thing to the boy where I turn to him and say ‘tell me something interesting’. He hates it and to my recollection has never actually responded with anything except ‘why would you do that to me? Now I can’t think of anything!’
I’m baffled by this. Partially because I have soooo many things to say that I have to turn to blogging and tweeting just to get them all out, and partially because someone is giving you free rein to tell them whatever you want. If he asked me, I’d tell him some of the things that I always meant to tell him but never got around to – like the time I saw a real gorilla in the backseat of a car in Golden, or how I think that him being in the car with me when I get pulled over guarantees I’ll get a ticket.
However, I’ve recently started whoring (ahem… is that the word I mean to use? Um.. yes, yes I think it is) my blog out a little bit more than I used to. I participated in Final Girl’s Film Club, and now I’m jumping on board Temerity Jane’s People Who Comment project. I’m also participating in NaBloPoMo, in case you didn’t catch that.(Speaking of Film Club, the tiniest sprinter-yes I said yes-sosovelo-emmanation-and-friends film club has a new selection! Blood Freak. It’s due Nov 9th and when asked about the film years after it’s release, the writer referred to it as “a sad chapter in my life.” If that doesn’t make you want to participate, I don’t know what will.)
Anyhow. After jumping on all these ‘look at me’ bandwagons, I’m starting to see the boy’s problem. Nothing quite like being on the spot to completely dry up any well of awesomeness you may have, at one point, had. Even if you put yourself on said spot.
The moral of this post is twofold.
1) I do not always like the things that I do to myself, even when they are things that I totally want to do.
2) I will accept suggestions on interesting/funny/awesome/embarrassing blogging subjects to help me get through NaBloPoMo. Leave your ideas in the comments, email them at emmanationblog [at] gmail.com, or if you are related to me and therefore have my phone number, call me. Seriously people, there are 26 days left in November. Twenty. Six. Help.