Wednesday, February 17, 2010

A confession


It occurred to me as I lay on a spinning bed and tried in vain to touch my fingers to my nose (I was convinced at that point that I could have beaten a sobriety test,) that this may be the worst blog in the history of blogs.

Think about it. I won’t really be doing anything. If you want a preview of all the blogs, here it is. I get up. I eat breakfast. I sit in the sun and read. I have lunch. I sit in the sun and read. At some point, I take a poo. I have supper. I may drink 11 glasses of wine. I stagger up to me room. I write and go to sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Boring, right?

God good, why did I post to everyone to read the damn thing? At best I will bore people. At worst, I will really, really, really bore them and they will never, ever, ever want to read any of my writing again.

However, after poking myself in the eye, I realized that the real purpose of this blog is something all together different from entertaining my friends.

Huddle up. This is some hard truth.

The blog is my way of keeping sane.

Despite my appearance at parties, I am actually a pretty gabby guy and I love to talk about all manner of shit. Margot was always a great listener and invariably raised the level of conversation when I was with her. Not having that is hard. It is one of the most things I miss most about Margot: Great companionship.

So this blog is my way of regaining some of that lost companionship. All of you reading these posts are, in effect, my surrogate Margots. Laugh at the jokes even if they are not funny. Leave a comment if you want. Roll your eyes. It’s okay. It’s what Margot would have done.

So thanks to those who continue to read. In a great sense, you are part of the healing process.

3 comments:

  1. Trust me, you are anything but boring. Though there may be eye-rolling coming your way.

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  2. No way is this boring. I am alternately laughing and crying, nodding my head and shaking it in disbelief. I love reading anything you write, as I always have, but this is some of the best stuff because it's so Joe and so real.

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  3. Just thinking about you after 12 glasses of vino makes me laugh, hard... boring oh contraro mon amigo(that's a bit of spench... Spanish/french...)

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