Hello world. There are a few reasons I'm starting a blog.
Reason #1. Get Better at Writing
In 1st or 2nd grade1 I wrote a story about two pigs called "Bob and Job." It was considered very good by me because it was four or five pages long (double sided). Ever since I wrote that piece, I've always self-identified as a writer, even though I don't write. At all. I don't even have a book on Amazon.
Ever since I met my wife, I've sometimes felt insecure about making less money than her, even though that's completely okay. But even though it's completely okay -- and it definitely is -- I still deep-massage my ego sometimes with the shallow thought that, maybe, probably, if I wanted to, because I self-identify as a writer, and if I set aside an hour or two a night for a few weeks...I could write the next big kaboom novel. Which, if it made the big kaboom money -- and it definitely would -- would make me feel cool 2.
That's all very unlikely.
But it's a little less unlikely if I get focused for once, get readers to read, and get better at writing.
If you're skeptical, please note that I've already gotten better at writing since I started this post. Look at my second sentence in this section (I underlined it). I used the passive voice for no reason. That's bad style, elementary, even. And then eight sentences later I'm structuring in parallel (I bolded it).
I know what you're thinking. Sure, it's parallel structure, but it's kinda mediocre parallel structure. But that's where you're wrong. There's no "kinda mediocre" with parallel structure. Either the lines are parallel, or they're not. No in between. That's math.
My lines
are parallel.
Reason #2. Get Ideas Out There
My life has been pretty good. Five years ago, in 2018, it got even better. Specifically in the weeks preceding Easter. That was when my wife met her husband-to-be (me). For me to become her husband-he-is, hinged, in these pre-Easter weeks, on several factors, one of which was puns.
I used to make puns a lot. Bad puns. Dad jokes. Groaners. I thought they were so bad, they were good. They were not. They were bad. But they were there. They were free (like lots of bad things). I definitely wasn't paying a monthly subscription to make puns appear in my inbox-- I mean, in my head. At least not knowingly. You know how subscriptions are. You know, maybe I did subscribe to something. It probably had a goofy motto like this:
"Puns in the head, gonna get said."
By 2018 I had punned so much that God4 had every right to smite me, but instead, to me his hand he lent. And to me he gave the gift of commitment to give up puns for Lent. Maybe he knew I was about to meet my wife-to-be and he wanted me to have a chance. If things went well, commitment to pun-free could lead to commitment to matrimony. And things went well. Palm Sunday in the Bahamas. The Last Supper in an Oatmeal Bistro 5. Then Good Friday came, and with it the fear that in three days, the puns would rise from the grave.
But unlike Jesus, the puns stayed dead.
I declined to let them rise because I realized that my life had improved. Not just because I had met a wonderful, beautiful, incredible woman that made me more content with my life. Because even after accounting for all the improvements she catalyzed, there were still a few improvement points unaccounted for. These were the fruits of my commitment to the punless lent tree6. Less punning, more funning. The puns still appeared in my head, I just didn't always say them out in public.
"Puns in the head, gonna stay dead."
This section was titled "#2 - Get Ideas Out There." When am I going to get to that? Right now. Actually in the next sentence, because in this sentence I'm getting you ready for the getting-to-that. So basically, I have a brain that constantly mashes words and ideas into longer words and bigger ideas, 98% of which are garbage. Puns constituted a lot of that garbage. I've realized it's near impossible to stop the internal mashing, but far impossible to stop the external trashing ie. saying all these long words and big ideas without checking first to see if (1) they're good and (2) the people I'm talking to, if with it, they're good. And when I say something from that 2%, they're usually good with it. But where to put the other 98%?7
Right here. You're reading it. This is my garbage.
When I said "Get Ideas Out There" I didn't mean:
"Get [brilliant] Ideas Out...Thither Beyond the Seven Seas, Into Mindful Minds"
But rather, I meant:
"Get [garbage] Ideas Out...of My Head and Put Them Over There, Wherever"
Thank you for choosing to take time out of your day to take garbage out of my brain.
Reason #3. + Reason #4. - Coming soon!
I don't have time to write about any more reasons. If you want to read more, I recommend the footnotes. You're not a footnote-skipper, are you?
1 It's hard to remember which grade because I had the same teacher, Mrs.D, for both 1st and 2nd Grade. At the time, this practice was called "looping" and it's as cool as it sounds because Mrs.D was a great teacher.
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2 But seriously, what would be cool about that? Is it really cool to bring home more bacon than your partner can win bread? You shouldn't compare apples and oranges; why should you compare bacon and bread? You should COMBINE bacon and bread, add lettuce and tomato, and have your sandwich. And eat it.
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4 Old-Testament God.
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5 I wish I was making this one up and the Bahamas one was true. But that's not how it is.
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6 The other, lesser-known tree Jesus sat under.
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7 Originally I wrote 99% garbage, 1% good, but that sounded weird because I kept thinking of the numbers of the Occupy Wall Street movement. Much easier to just claim I have twice as many good ideas.↩
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^These periods are here so that there's more space to scroll down the page. Otherwise the footnote links can't line you up to the correct footnotes ('cause the page gets stuck and can't scroll down anymore). This was my solution to the problem. I was pretty proud of it. Then I realized I'll probably never have this problem again on this blog, because future posts will always have previous posts below them. That made me sad because, like I said, I was proud of you, my little solution. I was looking forward to working with you. But I don't really need you anymore. I could keep you around, but it wouldn't be the same. You'd feel how I don't need you. I already miss you.
