The Hardest Thing that's Easy

For me, writing comes easily. Thinking about topics of limited intellectual scope also comes easily. The two blend seamlessly and voila - you have a blog.

But what's the point of a blog? What's the point of this blog?
For me, I've always said I just want to make people smile. (Now is when you go, "Aww" and smile.)
I also just want to write regularly because I think there's a certain healthfulness in the workout my fingers get on a keyboard. L to A is a long way, but Mavis Beacon taught me well.

In all seriousness, I am struggling with exactly how to be serious and provide more thoughtful commentary on the world around me. Stef on Sex was met with much thrill and joy, but from some of the people closest to me, I got shrugs, eyerolls, and dismissive comments - each one causing my stomach to roll and my throat to tighten. Critiques suck. Especially when you love and respect the critics.

While I'm confident in my ability to write about the silly, imbecile, juvenile, and absurd, I tend to be more humble when it comes to my real academic or intellectual side.

There are experts on the rare hoopoe bird and ancient hieroglyphics in Egypt and the politics of Greece and the anthropology of Madagascar.

I know a whole bunch of useless things. I memorize what my friends tell me about their pets and I remember who starred in my 5th grade play and I can understand telenovelas sometimes. But these are not 'expertise' categories or knowledgeable passions like those that consume the blogosphere, written by trendsetters and commentators.

So, what am I supposed to write about?

I figure, until I really know enough of something else to thoughtfully comment on that, I'm largely content with a confidence that someone several screens away will read this, say "Aww" and smile.