Smithy: What's happening with your blog?
Me: (imagining my blog has taken the form of a 19th century American warship and is being fired upon by whores and hedgehogs) What do you mean?
Smithy: You just haven't updated in a long time.
Me: (coming back to reality) Oh, that. Well, I tend to blah, blah, blah, blah...
Smithy: Blah, blah, blah...
Smithy: You're a perfectionist, son (little known fact: Smithy sired me).
It's true! Well, only partially true. My perfectionism does break down. I'll work really hard on something for a while and then give up when I realize/consider that someone may not care about something as much as I do, which is, nine times out of ten, par for the course. And of course, I tend to think of bloggers as people who:
- live fulfilling, exciting lives and are thus compelled to write about them
- are much better writers and can convey their thoughts in succinct, witty lines
- smoke pipes, wear bathrobes, own (and frequently use!) ottomans, sip brandy out of snifters, and may or may not have debilitating addictions to opium
- are not me
The fortunate fact is that bloggers, with the exception of some, rarely lead exciting lives and are thus compelled to write. I'm no exception. Korea is not really that thrilling a place. To be perfectly honest, there are very few places left that really fit the definition (unless you are easily excitable, are visiting one of the seven wonders of the world, or are engaged in a military coup). Also, most bloggers probably don't have opium habits.
But today is a new day, and if the ex-pat bloggers I've been reading can write about their bowel movements and keep my interest*, then I imagine my own mediocre experiences can be riveting to someone**.
On with the show.
*This may be an indication that there is something inherently wrong with me.