Oh, my husband. I don’t write about him much these days, though there was a time he was central to this blog (I believe his first appearance was here, a day after our first date).
He commented today that I don’t tell people via this blog that he’s funny. A couple things:
- People! He’s funny!
- But if you’re (or he is) expecting me to write verbatim all the funny things he says, you’re out of your goddamned mind. I can barely remember my own name half the time (and it’s even harder now that I’m married).
Plus, I told him that writing in this blog doesn’t get me legions of fans the way I (or really anyone?) hope. I get about 20 views. Most of them are me, rechecking the thing. Some of them are friends and family. A few from India (hey!), someone from Ireland (hey too!). I think it has to do with the time I post and the effort I put in (no one cares about watching YouTube videos on a blog they can just go to YouTube to watch, you know? I know. And now you know that I know).
I mean, writing every day is in and of itself its own effort. It’s hard. I hate it. I feel pressure to do it some days (hence, videos). I can’t dig deep and craft really good writing 95% of the time. I used to write well thought-out posts (not every day; that’d be mad) that I thought for sure someone would be like, “OMG SO FUNNY VIRALITY FOR YOUUUUU….”
… and that hasn’t happened, and I’ve gotten to the point that I can’t expect it to happen, because the expectation crash is where the disappointment really lies.
Of course I think I’m funny. Of course I think everyone should read this blog (tell your friends! No, really. I need an ego boost). But it doesn’t matter what I think, because I’ve got the smattering of people who read these consistently and if ever there was a book they’d show up for the signing and I’ve probably just got to be okay with that (because most of my readers are friends and family and me. Oh, except for maybe the random people in India and Ireland. Who knows).
But back to my husband: I used to write about him fairly consistently when I was in a period of the iteration of this blog that was mostly about my dating life (this blog has also revolved around being fairly inconsistent, fitness, running, vegetarianism… the only thing that has ever lacked has been my penchant for swearing). I think he used to love my blog solely because A LOT of the posts were about him – and isn’t that fun? Reading about yourself like you’re the greatest thing since … some great thing? Now he reads it every day but he doesn’t get the same joy out of it. He’s living the life with me; he already knows it.
I still adore him just as much, but when you’re writing every day, I find it’s hard to do some real “character” work, let’s call it. Something might happen once a week or once a month that can be presented as a summary and bolstered to comedic effect – not so when it’s every day. Maybe it can, and I’m wrong, and ALSO A TALENTLESS HACK.
In summary, because I don’t know how to end written posts (or… anything): dear hubs, I love you, I’m sorry my attention span is shit and I can’t remember anything, someday I’ll quote a conversation as it actually happened to show instead of tell that you’re super fucking hilarious because we’ve had quite a few many laughs, thanks to you.