When you get to be as old as I am, old enough to remember having a crush on Bonnie Franklin (really? no way, me too), you wonder if it's time to start having regrets.
Do you regret running home to do your homework when Jennifer Morton called you over to hang out at the swing set where she was smoking with all her cool friends? Really? You shouldn't. Because I was there and we were totally gonna trash you. Jenny had a permanent marker and we were going to hold you down and write crap all over you. Man, you're lucky you went home. Nerd.
So I regret not blogging all those years ago when everyone else started. I wish I'd listed all my hopes and dreams and published them for the world to see. To spill my heart out and have you love me. To look at my life and at the keyboard and again at my life and at my shoes and at my lunch and finally to type, "I just love the sandwiches from Junio's; they always melt the cheese just right." Then to click "publish" and settle back, satisfied, knowing that I'd accurately expressed my thoughts at that exact moment in my life.
But I never did that. Thank God. I'm blogging now. When I've been working for a while and I have crap I don't want to forget.
So if you're going to blog. Screw the posts about the sandwich. Enjoy the sandwich, sure. I mean, damn it was a good sandwich, but blog about something else. And don't worry, I'm not talking to you; I'm talking to me. You know, because I'm old and I forget stuff. And tomorrow I might start blogging about the waffles at Denny's. Or worse, finish that love letter to Bonnie Franklin:
Dear Ms. Romano, (he! he!)
Bonnie, you are so smart and beautiful.
