So. A New Blog.

* I wrote this over a year ago, when I first started trying out the concept of blogging strictly on my own terms. In some ways, I suppose it still applies. While I'd feel incredibly stupid if I ever wrote anything with so many digressions again, at the very least, I love how I was so unafraid to let my personality shine through in this entry.

I always love the feeling that a fresh, new blog gives me, because you know, it’s a new blog! It’s a fresh start! New beginnings. Other than its sentimental value (which I am probably over-exaggerating anyhow, given the fact that I am what one would classify as a typical teenager, and everyone knows that teens are supposed to be overdramatic! It’s practically a fact of life!), I just like having new blogs, plain and simple. It’s quite strange (or if you’d like to replace “strange” with “quaint” so that this entry will have some literary merit, go ahead and do so; alliteration for the win!) that I still feel this way, though, because to be honest, I think I’ve started about 50 new blogs during the course of my entire life. Given such a number, shouldn’t yet another new blog not be something new anymore? Gloria, I have come to the conclusion that you are ridiculous. Plus, you just started speaking (and still are speaking!) to yourself out of nowhere. That’s it. You are definitely ridiculous. And should probably stop talking to yourself.

Okay, let’s start a new (new! fresh! amazing! like this blog! beautiful! astounding! shut up gloria! and stop sounding like you’re reciting a thesaurus!) paragraph and get back on track. Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh right, new blogs. (“Blame it on my ADD” – sorry but no, I couldn’t resist incorporating such a quote in here. Teehee.) New blogs. New beginnings. A fresh start. Yadeyadeyada. It’s funny (no it’s not Gloria, don’t lie; you’re not funny) how every time I start a new blog, it’s almost always for the same reason – privacy issues. Every time I feel the urge to begin a new blog, it’s because I feel like my old one has become too public. This all goes to show that I am indeed ridiculous – who was the one who posted up her blog link on all the social networking sites she was actively involved in for weeks at a time, huh? I’m telling you, ridiculous. With a capital “R.”

See, this is my theory: every time I start a new blog, I decide that privacy is nice. It’s nice to be able to write and ramble without having to worry about others reading and judging what you think about. Isn’t it? Well, I think so, and it doesn’t really matter what you think because there will be no you except for me, since no one’s going to find this blog anyway (I think.) However, this whole privacy all goes to waste when I give in to human nature and become greedy. I start to pine for fame and admiration (but not riches, because high schoolers don’t usually get rich from blogging about silly things like the colours of their socks or spelling “color” the British way even though they live in the US.) I want people to recognize that I have a blog and actually know how to use it, so I begin to advertise it. I begin counting the average number of comments I receive on each entry, each time avariciously hoping that it takes more than just the number of fingers I have on one hand. Thus, I lose the initial feeling of privacy, and give it up for a pathetic attempt at achieving fame, which never really works out anyhow. You’d think that after nearly six years of blogging (and what, ten years of calling writing my passion? Give or take.), I’d have learned my lesson already – but I haven’t. Sad, isn’t it? Ah, but that’s just the way things go. And that’s just the way I’ve chosen to live my life. C’est la vie, mon cherie.

Anyhow, to end this on an interesting note (at least, I’d hope so!), here’s to starting my 51st blog. Cheers. It’ll be interesting to see how I cope with a blog that won’t be blocked after 9PM on weekday nights to myself. Let’s see how long it takes for me to give up my privacy to the paparazzi (or rather, Lynbrook’s version of the paparazzi, which would mainly consist of glasses-wearing dark-haired yellow-skinned teenagers scanning through my blog, checking for grammatical errors that would be analogous to those they’d have to spot on the SAT I) this time around, shall we? Yes, we shall. And yes, Gloria will someday learn to master the art of not talking to herself – hopefully.