What Are YOU Looking At?!?!

So now that I’ve actually got off my ass and opened up this silly thing, the floodgates of my mind have burst and I have about 8 million things to talk about. (Okay, more like 7,873,321, but it just seemed easier to round up.) The first of those things is just exactly who am I talking to?! I’m quite clearly speaking (figuratively, of course) into a great void, as I haven’t even alerted anyone as to this blog’s existence. So who exactly am I speaking to? Who are YOU?! I figure you’re either some random stranger who somehow bumbled onto this space, you’re some tech guru working for Live Journal who is wondering why I’m wasting valuable bandwidth, or you’re the voices in my head. Well, whoever YOU are, allow me to set up some guidelines for the rantings to come.

I’ve discovered that it’s apparently the norm around this place to never actually mention anybody you know by name, aside from using the user names of those who are also LJ’ing (is that a term? Is there a glossary around this place so I can learn the silly in-house lingo?). I like this idea. Despite the fact that anybody who knows me will probably know who the heck I’m talking about almost immediately, the idea of being covert intrigues me. I think I might get a kick out of speaking in vagaries, so I choose to do so.

Number two, I won’t always try to be funny. (Yes, I actually do TRY on many occasions.) To wit, today being Valentine’s Day, I am alerted to the fact that it is also my nephew’s birthday. He is… however many years old. Somewhere in the teens. I should know the exact number, but my brother and his family are, how shall I say this… *estranged* from the rest of the family, so I think I’ve seen the kid maybe 5 times since the day he was squirted out. Honestly, I don’t feel particularly bad about it. Aside from DNA, my brother and I have NOTHING in common. Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy, but with an eleven year age difference between he and I, it’s not like we ever what I’d call “close”. I find the whole idea of family to be somewhat overrated anyway. I mean, I guess if you have a tightly-nit family unit, it’s cool. But I don’t feel any particular loss at not having him around. I love my sister to death, but it’s not like we ever hung out when she lived nearby, so I can’t say as though my life is empty not having her in the neighborhood now.

I do miss me mum though. A lot. That part sucks.

So anyway, it’s my nephew’s birthday. Happy birthday, dude.

What else? Well, one thing that will become painfully (and I do mean PAINFULLY) obvious over time is that I am my own biggest fan. It’s all about me, me, me! I am acutely self-aware and pretty much everything I say or do is said or done with the express purpose of putting myself over. I once had a friend tell me she thought I was amazingly considerate. I am. For the sole reason that I want people to think I’m amazingly considerate. She didn’t like that answer. So get used to lots of really pointless posts about what it’s like to be me. It’s the only subject I consider myself an expert on.

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