I have a problem with this.
This, being the blogging thing.
I have had several funny (ok, more often than not, bitchy) conversations with friends about blogging and how silly it is, what would drive someone to do it, why any one would want to read someone's online journal (hey, I usually avoid other people's real diaries when confronted with the chance to peek - even though a diary is itself an admission of guilt, a begging of sorts for an audience to read it, etc.), and how there are so many other valuable things a person could do with their time.
I also have a problem with initially hating things I am secretly - sometimes shamefully attracted to.
Like the color teal...and Britney Spears...and Stephen Sondheim.
So, here I am.