And They Said it Wouldn't Last

A year ago today, the infamous Hollaback Girl persuaded me to give blogging a try. I was very apprehensive. I could hardly compete with the rapier sharp minds of the authors whose blogs I read with religious vigor (including Hollaback's excellent blog "Janeism"). What could I possibly have to say? She encouraged me and I leapt into cyberspace with a tentative voice, not really sure where it would lead.

I guess I had a lot to pontificate about for here I am 365 days later with 442 posts logged.

When I started off, I imagined a blog should reflect one's social consciousness. Shouldn't it serve as a responsible forum for serious global events?A catalyst of grass roots change? Perhaps I should have explored deeper issues like the war in Iraq, the Bush administration, global warming, the crisis in Darfur, animal endangerment, genocide, starvation, global terrorism, the 2008 election, race relations, the continuing AIDS crisis, socialized healthcare and world peace.

Well, yeah. That would have been nice but fuck it. The only gazing I tend to do revolves around my navel. Besides, there are wildly educated activists who adequately cover these particular topics much better than I could ever do. So when I launched this blog last August 22nd I knew one thing: write about what you know and that which amuses you. And so I have.

I don't apply tags to my posts, so I'm not entirely sure how the ratio of topics should be categorized. I can certainly generalize. I've written about sex and men and women; fashion and bad hair days, many genres of food, with a particular focus on chicken and pork. I've addressed songs that get stuck in my head, lists of things I have done, will do, won't do, will go to and want to do. I've been embarrassed and enlightened. I've seen good theater, bad film, inspiring concerts and mimes on the street. I've had multiple subway experiences and sometimes just watched people do the natural weird shit they are wont to do. I've taxed the breadth of my five senses, the four seasons and the ten spice wings at Arriba, Arriba on 7th Avenue. I've admired black squirrels in Inwood and the unexplainable je ne said quois of Taylor Hicks. My tits have garnered a few posts as has this funkyass city that I call home. I've written some deplorable poetry and owe a fat royalty to YouTube. Most of all, I've paid homage to the people I love: family and friends. It's been fun. I've had fun.

The only thing I probably got right was the name of this blog. I named this blog for the kind of gal I am. A little lowbrow, maybe spicy on the upside. That is, you'll get a Chinet plate and a wetnap with your meal but maybe the flavor will bring you back for seconds. I hope it will.

For those who do, thanks for reading. And thanks for your comments. They make me laugh like nobody's business.