The Blogger Dilemmas: Part 1

I have been blogging since 2004.

Of course, as a sophomore in high school, "blogging" means writing a play-by-play of your day, making not-so-subtle comments about your recent interactions with the guy you like, and generally boring anyone who reads your blog that isn't your BFF or mother.

I've since realized that no one wants to read what movies I watch on my couch (unless I'm writing a captivating review) or what I had for dinner (unless I'm posting the recipe). Side note: I hope that people still want to read about the guys I like, considering that makes up roughly 90% of my blog material. They're all celebrities, so there are very few awkward interactions or hurt feelings involved. I promise.

So, with my revised definition of "blogging" in mind, the new blogger Brittany faces a number of problems when sitting down at her computer.

Here is a quick idea of the battles that are waged within my mind whenever I open up Blogger:

- Does anyone care? The answer to this question is often a resounding no. Whenever I blog about my weekend, I fear that those who weren't involved in my weekend activities don't care enough to read about it. Whenever I blog about sports, I assume that those who don't care about my favorite teams or athletes skip that post. Whenever I blog about attractive male celebrities, I can almost guarantee that most guys don't read it. I think, anyway...

- Is this too personal? As you can tell, my identity is not a secret on this blog. I provide readers with my name, my e-mail address, my hometown, and the names of my family members and close friends. I upload countless pictures, and even videos, of myself. I detail my deepest fears, regrets, desires, and personal stories. Sometimes, I find myself wondering, "Will this come back to bite me?"

- Is this a job? I really wish it was. Getting paid for this would be my ultimate fantasy. However, sometimes I feel obligated to write new posts. I try to force an entry when I'm really not in the mood to write one. I feel guilty when I neglect my blog for a week. My blog has become a less-intense version of caring for an elderly parent: I love it dearly, but sometimes I need a break.

- WTF? Sometimes, when I finish a post, I re-read it to myself and think, "Uhh...I'm a freak." Don't worry - I rarely delete those posts. I tend to embrace my inner weirdo.

- Why am I writing this? Of course, I started blogging for myself. It's extremely cathartic, it forces me to really think about things, and it's a great way to remember details that I know I'd soon forget otherwise. However, I've noticed that I often pander to my readers (but no - I will never Man Meat Justin Bieber, Justin Timberlake, or Bradley Cooper). I ask my readers to participate regularly. I post the link to my blog shamelessly on my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I, like everyone else, love attention. It makes my day when I read a new comment on my blog. I often wonder how to attract new followers and spend a lot of time thinking of blog topics that will be entertaining or controversial. This has clearly become more than just a personal keepsake over the years.

In the end, I remind myself of one thing: This blog is mine. It helps me vent, allows me to chronicle my life and thoughts, and it has introduced me to a number of awesome girls/fellow bloggers around the country. People may not want to read about my penalty box fantasies with Sidney Crosby or how much I'd pay to be Tim Tebow's Under Armour for one day, but you know what? Not everyone will like what I have to say. That's the beauty of the Internet. There is a tiny X in the upper, right-hand corner of everyone's screen.

This is my safe place. This is my security blanket. This is what I will show my kids to make them feel unbelievably awkward. ("Yes, sweetheart. You were conceived on the 50-yard line of Soldier Field.") I don't need a million followers or comments to give my blog a sense of worth. I am perfectly happy with it just the way it is.

...Man Meat creepiness and all.