Here lies IYROOBTY

My fans have spoken, clamoring for a new blog post.  By fans, I mean fan (thanks Sherri).  And by clamoring, I mean probably just being polite in that way that you ask someone how they are, all the while hoping they don't regale you with a five-minute tale of how their gout is flaring up again and their continuing gastrointestinal issues.

Saturday was my bloggiversary, so it seemed like as good a time as any for a new post.

I've been at this nine years.  That's a whole lot in blog years.  Ancient, really.  Look, I'm not blind, I can see the writing on the virtual wall.  When I think of all the dead blogs I've cut from my link list over the years, it's a sobering thing.  And soon, I too, shall join them -- the ghosts of bloggers past.

At this point, I'm pretty much the blogging Betty White.  Now if I only knew who the blogging Rue McClanahan was we could move in together and ride out these final golden years in style.

To kick off year number ten, I apologetically announce the creation of a new poetry blog.  No, seriously.  Why are you laughing?  It's my bloggiversary, try and control yourselves.  It struck me this weekend that the time has come for me to get things in order.  Here on the blog, I mean.  I wanted to have a place to keep all my poetry and lyric-y things together.  There'll be some previously posted stuff, some I wrote and never posted, and anything new I manage to scribe.  I'm calling it Poetry Wrecks.  Like Cake Wrecks -- except far less popular, but every bit as delicious! 

Speaking of end-of-(blog)life decisions, not a lot of people get a chance to do this, but I would like to take this opportunity to write my own eulogy.  Or is it an obituary?  Maybe it's only a eulogy if it's read aloud.  Either way, here goes, and you can fight amongst yourselves as to who gets to read it aloud.  You know, when the time comes...

Here lies If You Read Only One Blog This Year, age (undetermined as yet).  It expired on (TBD), suffering in its later years from long bouts of post-lessness.  The blog had been dormant and mostly unresponsive for more than (TBD) hours prior to its death.

Born May 5th, 2003, on AOL.  It was raised on AngelFire, before moving to Blogspot in October of 2003, where it spent the remainder of its days.

A contemporary of such infinitely more famous blogs as Dooce and Stuff White People Like, IYROOBTY enjoyed its greatest popularity in the years of 2006 & 2007, just before the explosion of Facebook when blogging would go the way of the cassette tape.

IYROOBTY was home to a veritable hodge-podge of topics, ranging from golf to General Hospital, Bama football to Brandon Walsh, frequently following the protagonist's never-ending, if sporadic, efforts to end up in Wikipedia or the Guinness Book Of World Records.  Its writings on Welcome Back Kotter and WKRP In Cincinnati are some of the only on the internet.  And to the very end, every post was ended with a carefully chosen song lyric.

It is survived by its author, Bone.  Although according to those in his inner circle, he is said to be completely despondent and reclusive.  More so than normal, even.

In the final days of his life, he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the pursuit of his long-reputed soul mate, a woman whom he only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended late Saturday night in complete and utter failure.  (Oh, sorry for that very out-of-place Serendipity interlude.  I just always wanted my eulogy to say that, and be read aloud by Ari.)

Other survivors include one (brain)child, the moderately successful writing prompt, Three Word Wednesday, which continues under new management; several invented fake blog holidays including NaBloSoThaDraWe, Blogust, and Blogtober (although survive might be a strong word for those); and a small but loyal group of readers whose friendship, kindness, and encouragement will not soon be forgotten.

In lieu of flowers, comments may be left on this post.

"And if you threw a party / And invited everyone you knew / You would see the biggest gift would be from me / And the card attached would say / Thank you for being a friend..."

Reconciliation

Dear Blog,

Let us not beat around the bush or tiptoe about the proverbial daisies any longer. Clearly, we have some issues that need to be discussed.

We've drifted apart.

(Blog responds with a series of beeps and electronic noises similar to R2D2, or at least that's what I imagine.)

No, it has nothing to do with Facebook. Why do you always bring her up? She means nothing to me. I only use her for Scrabble.

I'm committed to you. We've been together for over six years. That's the longest relationship I've ever had... with a blog. Or... a girl.

I want this to work, too! But why does everything I write have to be perfect and grandiose?

Well, that's how you make me feel. Like nothing is ever good enough.

Well, I'm not Dooce! I'm me! Nice to meet ya! Maybe if you made as much money as her blog does, I could quit my job and spend all day with you.

I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.

Look, I admit, I have been neglecting you. But I'm here now. Fighting for you. Fighting for us. Doesn't that count for anything?

Where did we go wrong? Remember when we first began, we'd do it like two or three times a day. Then it was once a day. And now we're lucky if we do it once a week. When did it become such a chore? I mean, I still enjoy it when we do get together.

We sure had some good times, didn't we? You stuck with me during my ALL CAPS phase and those early days of zero and one comments, when all we had or needed was each other.

I miss you. I miss us.

Do you remember the first time we went all the way... to 50 comments? That's right, the Nuvaring post. *sniff* You do remember!

Oh blog, come here, I just wanna publish you right here and now.

"Try to see it my way. Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong. While you see it your way, there's a chance that we might fall apart before too long. We can work it out..."