Self-absorption is delicious.
Fuck all you people (all WHAT people?) - you hypothetical people who might happen accross this thing one day, and who might then say, "she is so self-absorbed." Well guess what - it's a blog. That's the core of what blogging is about. I'm not going to entertain you unless you're actually in the room with me - that's not the way it works.
So then, why a blog? Why does anybody keep these types of semi-public journals as opposed to the more standard private-diary-in-a-pink-Strawberry-Shortcake-book-with-a-little-tiny-lock-on-it, if it's not about other people reading it? Well, I don't really know yet. That, actually, is why I am keeping this thing - to figure out why. I'm doing it partly because current autobiographical theory states that writing about the self actually constitutes the self - that writing changes the writer through the very process of writing. And this would work as well in one of those tiny-lock diaries - but a) I don't actually like writing in longhand very much these days (and I have some hangups about writing in bound books anyway - it's so permanent that it's very intimidating) and b) I get really bored with it if the only potential audience is myself - there's never any wit or wisdom in those things (for me) - there's only whining and cataloguing. Somehow, my personality doesn't suffuse them in the same way that it does in almost all the other writing that I do.
I don't know - it's a new (ish) medium, and I'm giving it a shot. And I like it better than the Strawberry Shortcake diary, anyway.