The Sanctimonious First Post.

So here's the thing: I'm a white female, I'm almost 2 years away from turning 30 and I have opinions on just about everything. Opinions that really should matter to you. Since I wouldn't be doing my part for the Western world if I didn't find some way to cram those opinions down your throat, I'm starting a blog. How have I resisted thus far, you might ask? Well, Facebook. And don't get me wrong, Facebook has served its purpose well. I've played simultaneous scrabble games with people all over the world, posted pictures of summer trips with corresponding witty comments, and of course, shared with all my "friends" my list of favourite movies. I believe I may have even thrown a sheep at someone. But I'm just feeling constrained. Perhaps Facebook is too structured for my gifted right-sided brain. I can't keep staring at that status box every day, being begged to proclaim "what's on my mind." I need a deeper question than that! And yes I'm sure I could find some Facebook Application called Deeper Questions to add to my page. But we all know that somewhere down the line the Indian creators, Rajat and Jayant, of said application are going to be found guilty of copying some American's version that claims to have done it first, and then be forced to cease and desist, leaving all us plebs who have grown to love and depend on our beloved Deeper Questions, in the lurch. Has The Great Scrabulous War of 2008 taught us nothing?!

Right. So to recap:
Facebook = holding back potential creative genius flow.
Sarah = still not over Hasbro's hostile takeover in the online Scrabble world.

The other thing about Facebook? Everyone's on it. Facebook is the common cold. Who doesn't get it? And the few who don't, spend all their time self-righteously telling the world how they'll never succumb to its powerful forces because they take Echinacea and buffered vitamin C (yeah, like that's SO much better than the regular stuff...). That is, until they hear there are pictures of their slutty ex doing jello shooters off some dude's bare rippling abs, posted on it. Then they get it. Ha! So much for moral superiority. And Ester-C. I knew paying that extra $1.99 was a rip-off!

So if Facebook is the common cold, I'm interested in something a little rarer. More exotic. A disease that bed-rest and fluids certainly won't be curing. Enter, Beckwith-Wiedemann Syndrome (which is, of course, my way of referring to "blogging" while cleverly keeping this metaphor alive - try to keep up). My very own website where I could control e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. MUAH HA HA HA HA! Shortly into my evil laughter and chair-spinning though, I realized that to have one of "those" websites you needed to a.) pay money (not likely) and b.) have enough computer savvy to actually design and create a functional website (really not likely). So I lowered my disease expectation down to like, Lyme Disease. Easy enough to get from a tick while walking through the woods but, really, what are the chances that one of those suckers is actually packing heat? (and by packing heat I mean "carrying Lyme disease" but in street-lingo. Just trying to appeal to a broader demographic; I wouldn't want any of those inner-city Harlem kids to feel alienated from my blog....)

After googling possible blog start-up sites I came across Blogspot. Yes, perhaps it was the first hit that google generated but in no way does my laziness that diminish the awesomeness of Blogspot. First, ITS FREE. Second, the sign up process was short enough for my MTV-Generation brain to stick with. And third (this is the best part), I can make up to $1200 a month from my own home by merely participating in a series of not-at-all-shady interactions over the internet with a friendly and seemingly trustworthy Nigerian fellow who only requires my SIN and bank account info (for direct deposit of course). I don't even have to give out my name! This whole blogging thing is like a fairy-tale....

So heading off on my journey to the land of individualism (ha!), I created a so-totally-the-opposite-of-generic web address using my full name (uh oh, I am starting to get a bad feeling about that "online job opportunity"...) followed by .blogspot.com. Oh man, I can practically taste the uniqueness on my middle-class WASP-y tongue! I was then asked to choose a layout from a potential 16 templates (hmmm, well that's not a lot of choice but remember how at Facebook they didn't even offer you 1?) so in the true spirit of nonconformism (and intellectual theft), I ripped-off my friends Nayt and Julia's babies' blog format (thanks Everest! Auntie Sarah owes you one). Basic black. No frills. Lets the reader just zero in on the mind-blowing wisdom being impressed upon their inferior brains (unless they too have a blog , in which case the battle to see who can stay more motivated to write priggish and self-congratulatory posts everyday has just begun. En garde, geeks). Then I just stuck in a black and white photo of myself that gives the impression of candidness while actually having been carefully crafted in iPhoto (oooh yeaaah, welcome to the big leagues), made to make you feel the need to go edit your profile photo to match the arty-ness of mine. And to finish my page off? I added a running commentary on what book I'm reading right now. Of which I'll only confess to the "smart and hip" ones that make me seem way edgier than I really am. Certainly not the pre-teen "Twilight" series that I may or may not have devoured in 6 days after shirking all other responsibilities just to do so....(Edward Cullen I love you! Make me your vampire wife!)

Huzzah! I am now Sarah Macnabb: Blogger Extraordinaire. So I guess this is where I just sit back and wait for the acclamations to start rolling in.

*chirp chirp*

Well, I mean, its only been a few minutes since I posted this. I'm sure people just haven't checked their computers yet today. And it is Saturday so probably most people won't even jump online for another 2 days.......I'm not worried. Remember Kevin Costner in that baseball/corn-field movie? It took people time to realize that he wasn't crazy, just clairvoyant. And then when they finally did realize his genius, they all wanted to play at his baseball diamond. And instead of saying "hell no you fuckers! None of you believed in me when I was building the field. Where were you when I was cutting down all that corn to make room for the pitcher's mound, huh? Huh?! That's right, you were standing on the sidelines laughing. Well you know what? Who's laughing now?!" But he didn't. He was all like "hey guys, no hard feelings about you ridiculing me and my vision. I admit, it must have sounded pretty whacked out! I'm just glad we now have this great baseball diamond on land zoned solely for agriculture. Lets bury the hatchet by playing what some refer to as the Great American Pastime. And after that we can all eat some corn together from the harvest. And then sit around while James Earl Jones tells us stories about following our dreams and other stuff."

Or at least I think that's what happened. It was on cable TV and I kept flipping between that and the E! True Hollywood Story of "Blossom."