It's difficult to explain to those who neither blog themselves nor read weblogs (blog-lurkers, or blurkers) that I find blogging extremely fascinating and addicting, that it allows me to organize my thoughts, celebrate the mundane that makes up my life, hone my writing, and share my stories with an audience that probably doesn't even know what I'm doing (or not doing) with the 80-90% of my life that I don't even blog about - an audience that seems to appreciate my little stories nontheless, even if I don't share anything of consequence most of the time.
Recently, I mentioned that I have been blogging for three years now, and, again, it would take too long to discuss why exactly I've kept at this when I'm usually so easily bored and distracted that I end most projects even before fully beginning them. Suffice it to say that I don't maintain this weblog as some form of self-centered aggrandizing just because I have the power to click a button and suddenly "self-publish" my thoughts to the web - but, yes, sometimes I do think I have something amusing or pseudo-profound to share, and you crazy people out there actually take the time to respond to it.
Which is my point: For me, the weblog is all about the people it's brought into my life. People like you, and you, and yeah, you over there in the corner who never comment but I know you lurk around here, yep. I've never met most of you, but that's okay, although it does rock my world when I do meet some of you. The weblog's brought a lot of sweetness, and countless beautiful people, into my life. I still haven't forgotten the outpouring of comments and emails after this post, for example. Oh yeah, and the random little emails once in a while, too, for which I'm massively sorry if I still haven't responded to yours. I'm getting to it. Like, a year late. Or something. And, sometimes, we catch each other on AIM or MSN or your instant messaging stalking devices of choice, and then I get fun opportunities to underscore why exactly my screenname is crackfiendserene.
I was thinking recently of all the people I've been privileged to meet in person, simply because I have a weblog. Anjum, of course, who is wonderful to hang out with, and I wish she lived in California all the time. HijabMan, who came all the way across the country simply because, and who leaves random songs on my voicemail. Through his vast network of friends, I've been blessed to meet other amazing people as well: D, my jummah buddy extraordinaire, who makes going to Oakland every Friday something to look forward to all week; SI, one of the sweetest and most genuine people I know, who sends me texts and emails exhorting me to come to DC for cherry blosson season; M, who appreciates headwraps like few others do.
There's 2Scoops, one of the rare people I actually love talking to on the phone, even though it takes us weeks to get ahold of one another. Maria, who is beautiful and brilliant and yet so humble. Baji's sister, LB, who laughed so much and was so easy to connect with that I told her it felt like I had known her for years. When my friend, the lovely L lady, went off to DC for a semester-long internship, I was quite comfortable sending her off with Baji's contact info; that she returned to California with stories of hanging out with Baji and Najm and the rest of the East Coast crew just made me appreciate Blogistan even more.
And, of course, through the same sort of online presence, although it wasn't through blogging, I also met my favorite "psychopathic maniac" SS, which, in turn, allowed me to eventually meet Mark, Dipti, Nipun, Viral, and Guri - people who are so beautifully inspiring on a daily basis that my words will never do them justice.
The "internets" have widened my world considerably, while simultaneously allowing me to realize what a small space the world really is.
The other day, I read something by Goethe that made me think of this weblog:
To know someone here or thereI'm grateful for all of you. Here's to gardening, kids.
with whom you can feel there is understanding
in spite of distances
or thoughts expressed -
this can make life a garden.