How To: Blog (ish)

Firstly, you always start your posts with the word "firstly". Then, you always write your next sentence beginning with the word "then". Then, you dehumanize the people you hate, because your readers presumably are people like you, and therefore presumably hate the same people you hate, and this is called building a bonding relationship. And maybe if more than one person reads your blog on a regular basis, you can build up a following that will eventually turn into a cult. (Just kidding. Cults are bad. Don't join cults. Man, unless it happens to be a turtle cult. Even I couldn't say no to a turtle cult. They'd be so cool and strutting around with their shells, being all, "Hey. You can't see me because I'm hiding in my shell, and this is how I avoid people who are stupid." But, really. Don't join cults.)

Then-ly, (is that a word? It should be) you have to actually have some structure to your blog. You probably shouldn't just rant about turtles and socks and Spanish all day long. People/your one reader might get bored, and they might move on to a new, and more exciting blog, with more content, and more awesomeness.

Third-ish, (again, if it's not a word, let's call Webster) I actually have no real, legitimate advice to give to you today. I'm ridiculously tired. And also, I've taken like six Advil because I fell down the stairs yesterday. And I don't like taking Advil for two reasons. 1. I have a really hard time swallowing pills and things, so usually I drink like six gallons of water for every two pills (that's probably an exaggeration, no one knows), and 2. It makes me really weird. Okay, weirder than normal. Like my brain is on hyperdrive! And I can type at super speed! Like the Hulk! Or Iron Man! I don't know if they can type at super speed. And I don't even like the Hulk. He looks like a brick that turned into a person that rolled around in some grass and then turned back into a brick, but just like occasionally in Harry Potter, the transformation didn't go so well, and he ended up half-brick, half-human.

My legs feel like death. Well, I guess not right now, because (see above) Advil. But when it wears off, I can't even walk up the stairs. Good thing my building doesn't have an elevator. Good thing I live on the fourth floor. But don't worry, dear, dear people who care so much about my health and well-being. Apparently I'll be fine if I stop walking up and down the stairs.

You might be asking, why did you fall down the stairs?! What the heck were you thinking?! And those would both be fair questions. However, if I tell you what actually did happen, you'd think I was completely incompetent at walking and thinking. Especially when engaging in both activities simultaneously.

Okay. Fine. You've convinced me. I was walking out of a meeting, a meeting that happened to be in a building I'd never been in before. And buildings are some of the most confusing things I've ever happened to encounter in my life. You go in one door, and then you go out the same door, and everything looks like it's been moved in the twenty-four minutes you've been inside! So I was looking around, trying to find out how to get back to my room, and I was looking up, not down. But in doing so, there were apparently four stairs on the path, and I didn't see them. Wow. Good job, self. I pretended I could fly, except the ending did not work as well as I would have hoped had I actually been pretending I could fly of my own volition. And also, concrete is hard.

So there. Judge me. I guess maybe that could be the lesson for today! Learn how to fall down the stairs and still be able to walk and talk and sometimes form coherent phrases together so people might want to read about the adventures of falling down the stairs at college! That's too long of a title. We'll stick with How To: Blog. And maybe we'll add a little something.

There. How To: Blog (ish)

Don't let your injuries stop you from doing what you love/what you feel obligated to do/what you hate! Time will heal all things, except the dinosaurs. Pretty sure those are never coming back. And actually, you should occasionally pretend you're a dinosaur, just to relive your past, when you were a dinosaur. Evolution treated you well, my friend