I had a web page in 1996, back when I was writing "the book of which we dare not speak." And I remember when I finished that book, how I would post chapters on my web page and link to other sites and wait for someone to comment on my book. I wrote my funny little comments about life and edited my page and waited for someone to care about what I was saying.
Around 1998, I gave up on my book promotion.
I still had web pages, but only for simple things. They're still out there, 2 or 3 of them that haven't been deleted by Yahoo! for inactivity. One has movie reviews; another has some goofy stuff. One was a pain in the butt because I had bought a magnetic poetry calendar and I attempted to write a poem a day for a whole year using only the tiles that came with the calendar. The only poem I can remember right now is: "can the sun moon the earth?"
But yeah, the Web had abandoned me. Or at least, it never acknowledged me. I did post something once that made its way into a legitimate print newspaper, but that was it.
So when blogging came along, I didn't care. I didn't want to talk about my lunchtime sandwiches or haircuts or coworkers haircuts. I had reached out to the Web and she (yeah, she's a she) had spurned my love, so I didn't care when she attempted to tease me back with all this new promised attention.
All through 2000-2005, I would hear everyone get giddy about their blogging. "Screw you," I'd say to the Web. "I am not taking you back."
But in 2006, that whole "23 Things" started, so I figured I'd better learn what it is, in case I got asked about it.
So, eventually, I started this thing, whatever it is.
I still don't trust the Web. She claims she thinks about me, and she showed me that she kept those letters I wrote her, so she must care, at least a little. But I'm not trusting her, and I definitely don't love her. We just hook up for the sex. And I try to remember her birthday.
Also, I probably never blogged before 2007 because I think I was in prison: Listen up, kids, never try to overthrow the government of Peru. By yourself. And then try to escape on a llama. He won't run fast with your fat ass on his back.