On Blogging

Readers, there has been something weighing on me for several weeks now. It concerns my sweet, dear, precious blog, to which I am so attached, and of which there is no more frequent reader than myself. I am, indeed, my own biggest fan. However pleased I might be with the results thus far, I did commence my career as a blogger with some degree of uncertainty regarding my own capabilities. Would I be able to create a cadre of faithful readers? Would I succeed in promoting my own life as a topic worth reading about? Would people make witty, animated comments about the endearing and/or equally witty aspects of my postings? Not to mention the question of sustainability - simply put, did I really have anything to say?

This final question is the one I would like to address now. Ever since the very popular (judging by the number of comments, which, I might add, is minimal compared to other blogs, but for me, 9 was an impressive number) Mojave post, I have suffered from writer's block. Actually, let's be honest - it hasn't been an inability to express ideas, but, even worse....a lack of ideas, a total want of suitable material. While I may have initially made my life sound somewhat interesting, as it turns out, it's all a big charade. I, officially, have had nothing to say or report for some time.

So today I began thinking. I made a list of things that have made me chuckle, think, or at least consider thinking, and about which I might possibly have something to say. This is the first thing that came to mind (ahem):

For whatever reason, I frequently remember a particular experience I had studying one night during my junior year of college. I was reading a book on the Crusades for a history class I was taking on, you guessed it, the Crusades. An entire semester, three hours a week, talking about the Crusades. Reflecting on this experience has led me to ponder the usefulness of such a course. When in my life will I possibly use the things I learned in this class? For what purpose would one need such a depth of knowledge, understanding, and insight on such an esoteric topic? Well, turns out, it's pretty handy for a blog. When I remember this semester of my life - by the way, I am anxiously awaiting a time in my life that cannot be measured by semesters, and I don't foresee it happening for several years, if ever. There's something oddly disconcerting about being a working professional who's been out of school for two years but who still talks about her personal life like, "Last semester, when I went home for Christmas break..." - anyway, when I remember this semester of my life, I first recall my dry, comical professor who fell of a cliff while photographing something and ended up in a dirty Greek hospital having an organ removed by a veterinarian, and then I think about this one particular night while I was studying in my kitchen. The chapter I was reading was discussing the exploits of one Henry, who was busy gathering together some troops in order to capture the city of Acre. It was very late, and my mind was pretty hazy and detached as I hurriedly tried to finish what you can imagine was pretty dry material, when suddenly I stumbled upon this historical gem (taken from A History of the Crusades, Vol. III, 93):

"On 10 September 1197 his troops assembled in the palace courtyard; and Henry reviewed them from the window of an upper gallery. At that moment envoys from the Pisan colony entered the room. Henry turned to greet them, then, forgetting where he was, stepped backward through the open window. His little dwarf, Scarlet, was standing by him and grabbed at his clothes. But Henry was a heavy man and Scarlet very light. They crashed together on to the pavement below and were killed."

I was immediately revived. While this story may be politically incorrect, it was very humorous to me at the time, and so memorable, in fact, that about three years later I spent at least an hour one night at my apartment when we had some friends over scouring through all my Crusades textbooks looking for it (clearly, playing hostess is not where I excel).

This is what my blogging has come to - quoting obscure history stories about dwarves. If ever there was an argument about who the biggest fan of my blog was or is, I am clearly the winner as I am surely the only reader left.

I apologize.