Or, why is a blog like a Tamagotchi?
I have had two people comment on the volume of blogged stuff on the Phoblog here. It does seem like a lot at times. One friend likened it to a pet that you have to feed or walk in the evenings. And yes, it is kind of like that.
I've been thinking how it's like a Tamagotchi. Do you remember those?
They were quite the thing, circa 1997. I can still remember when my then-boyfriend surprised me at a Math Fair (yea, I was that kinda nerd, go ahead, have your fun) with my very own clear blue one, kinda like in that picture. I still have it somewhere - long-dead battery and all. Anyway - you had to feed it and love it and whatever else or it shriveled and died. Pretty heavy for a keychain toy. When it died it had these little wings . . . all Tamagotchis go to heaven, apparently.
Oh, before they died they could get surly and pissy too. It was fun.
Anyway - the long drawn out analogy here is that, yes, this blog is a pet of mine. It's a project. A labor either of love or of frustration. It's a bit of an obsession at time. But it gives me a voice. And relieves coworkers and family of listening to my rants live (though if you ask nicely, I'll still put in personal appearances when need be). There's so much to say right now. So much truth to seek and pass on.
So yes, it is like a pet. A demanding, omnipresent pet. But in a twist, if I don't tend to it, someone else might - not here on Phoblog, but elsewhere. There isn't much scooping in the blogworld, but no one likes to be too behind the times.
So I blog a lot. And I hope I always do. The Tamagotchi died. I have higher hopes for Phoblographer*.