A sense of failure for not posting every day! Ok maybe not. If I was that upset about it I probably would have posted every day.
A few weeks back my mother called me, as she does, and I could hear the excitement in her voice as she talked about something Heather had done. Well guess what! We do not know Heather. I have never met Heather and I probably never will because she is all the way over there and I am all the way over here. And yet I feel fine calling her by her first name. I am on a first name basis with about 40 awesome women I have never met, and my mother and I bond over the things they talk about to the internet. This is something that blogs have given me.
I have become someone who appreciates design, small victories, and good food, and I don't know that I would have become that kind of person were it not for the constant stream of inspiration in my life because of blogs. Amazing people post the things they love and I get to listen to them tell me all about why they love them. Have you ever been talking to someone and suddenly they light up like a Christmas tree when the subject makes its way around to typefaces? Even though typefaces are kind of specific and odd? And you walk away LOVING THE HELL out of typefaces and you start to see them differently, at least for a little bit? Isn't that the best? These blogs are like that for me. Is it lame that I found that in a bunch of people on the internet who don't know I exist? Maybe. But I am pretty sure that making me feel a little less alone and a lot more inspired is a better use for the internet than, say, two girls one cup (if you don't know what that is, don't Google it please).
Blogs have taught me how to knit (before Ravelry happened, and even a little bit still), how to take excellent pictures for my own blog should I choose to put a little effort into it, how to make things for my home and what to make when folks come over for dinner. This is just to name a few tangible things. They've also helped teach me how to be brave and stand up for myself and how to laugh off the things I can't change. They've shown me that absurd can be hilarious and that grieving doesn't make me a weak person. Most importantly they've reminded me that it is more than ok to be who I am because whoever I am, whoever WE are, we are most certainly beautiful.
When you mention blogging as a hobby, especially when you don't have anything to show for it other than a website made from butchered code with some dinosaurs on it and a habit of writing things down that you want to blog about later when you should be working, people tend to raise an eyebrow. What does it make? What does it DO? For that matter, why? Why do it at all? I think that for me it is pretty simple. I want stories. There are so many to find and they are told in so many ways. Nobody has to read anything on the internet and many people would feel better in general if they remembered that. But my story is here among all these other beautiful stories in case someone wants or needs it. It will help keep the pot full. That's enough for me.