A clear sign of my mental illness

September 18, 2007

Hello, people who read my blog. I know who some of you are (hi Dad! hi Shauna!), but I don’t think I know all seven of you.

There is a thing that wordpress has called “Blog Stats.” I like to call it, “another way to torture myself.”

See, lately I’ve been struggling with feeling like a failure. “Lately” being the last year or so. I’m doing much better, thank you, and I’m learning that “success” is maybe a) not the most important thing in the universe and b) maybe not measured by other people but by me and God.

But, here comes Blog Stats to point out that I am still mentally ill, still needing to be GOOD at EVERYTHING. IMMEDIATELY.

I have had this blog for seven days. One week. One day, for no reason that I can see, I had 28 hits. I was so excited. Twenty-eight! How cool is that.

However. After that one happy day, a day where I received the outward approval of Blog Stats, a day when Blog Stats told me I was doing well. . . err . . .um. . .it never got anywhere near that number again. To say I was crushed would be an exaggeration. But not much.

So, Blog Stats, I just want you to know that I see you for who you are, you punk. Quit trying to steal my fun! You’ve been warned.


Oh, you crazy vegans.

September 14, 2007

I had a seriously tasty peanut butter cookie yesterday, and I felt holy the whole time I was eating it.

Why? Because it was a vegan cookie. If I could just wave a magic wand, I would become a vegan. Vegans are cool. They have a whole philosophy about eating that is based on taking better care of the earth. I like that in people. And I’ve found that vegans are also a little more crazy focused than the vegetarians, and I appreciate the crazy.

The problem is, I love me some In-n-Out. And eggs, Lord have mercy. And don’t get me started on CHEESE. I have feelings for cheese more intense than a person should have for an inanimate object.

Please don’t get mad at me, vegans. I’m going to eat your freaking delicious cookies and hang with you in theory. And I’ll try not to hit the In-n-Out too often.