Dear Blog

Dear Blog,

Before I say anything, let me say I love you and I’m sorry. I started you almost six weeks ago under the guise that I would post on you (using protection of course) and update you on a semi-regularly basis. And what happened? I popped your cherry, called you once and left you forever. You may be my mistress, but I am being a horrible master. Yes, I am married to conversations with people in “real life”, but I am not ashamed to say that I love my dirty little secret. I cheat on reality every day by hanging around your corner, the internet, but I have been neglecting you blog, the prostitute that makes me feel alive.

Long ago, before you grew up to the adult you are today, known as Blogger/Blogspot, you were a young little thang called LiveJournal. As you were that cute little toddler, I nurtured you, burped you, breast fed you, gave you everything you needed. You looked at me with your bright blue eyes as if you were seeing things in the world for the first time. I posted my thoughts, shared my stories, shared my music, shared my life with you. We had good times. You didn’t know your head from a hole in the ground and I guided you to what you needed to be.

Then, you became a teenager. You grew to be a rebellious little Myspace. I tried to deal with you. You were always talking back, acting like you were bigger and better than me. You acted like you were the big shit on campus and nobody could bring you down. I tried to tame you. I used some of my methods when you my cute little LJ, but it didn’t work. You were too out of control. I admit, this is where I faltered. As your dad, as your mentor, as the person you look up to, I should’ve lead by example. But, alas, I failed. You did your own thing. You ran away from home a couple of times. I had to stop you and make you realize what you were doing would not fly in the fake real world. And, you may’ve made many friends, you may’ve been many places, it was all superficial. So, I shut you down. I pulled you away. I took everything you needed from you, to teach you, there are bigger and better things out there. You needed to be humbled.

I though I had destroyed you. I thought our relationship would never go back to normal. I thought we would never be the same. But you took what happened to you, overcame all of your sadness and persevered in a mature being, standing on your own two feet, like a college kid just making it through their freshman year. You became the independent woman (cue Kelly Clarkson) known as Facebook. At first, you were pissed off at the world. You ranted and raved about any and everything, throwing metaphors out left and right. But then, you settled down and realized anger wasn’t the way of the world. You started to get cynical…. and hilarious!! I thought you were perfect. And I thought you didn’t need any more help from me. But slowly, you started sticking your hand in many different pots, pots filled with mousetraps, mousetraps made of acid, and you were getting confused. Do you rant and rave? Do you post useless info? Or do you chat it up with a friend? Or punch, kick, or do other actions to people? It became too confusing. You realized that life after college is filled with responsibility.

Now, you’ve become that responsible adult. And I plan on posting on you (using protection of course) on that semi-regular basis I previously promised. Yes, I have other mistresses now, such as Wasabisoft, but you are my main girl. I will give you those things you wanted. You will get your diamond rings, your new cars, your nights out on the town. You will never be anything I am ashamed of. You are my main mistress, my whore, my girl. I love you.

Your latin lover,
Chad

P.S. Yes, I understand I just began this fake letter to a blog with the metaphor of it being my mistress (I.e. inferring that posting on it is the love making) and then followed it up with metaphors as if it was my daughter, growing from birth to an adult. And yes, I realize that means I am metaphorically saying I am sleeping with my daughter. But, assholes, in this case I am talking to a FUCKING BLOG! Deal with it.

We’re not blood related anyways.