Confessions #5: Sometimes I post here rather than commenting elsewhere

I think blogging time, in my schedule, is a fungible thing. That’s a cool word I just learned. Basically, I have an allocated amount of time for “blogging” and I have to spread that time between writing, reading and commenting.

So sometimes I write lots of posts here and neglect the “community” aspect of blogging. Times like yesterday. Yesterday my blogging comrade and e-friend Ben mentioned a really significant moment. A momentous moment. He sold his house. Without having to go to auction. Which he had expressed concern about. What a relief that must have been for him, and his family. But here’s little old me. Blogging about pointless stuff like Jesus themed thongs. So caught up in my own world that I didn’t comment on his post. Nor did I take the obligatory Monday Quiz.

And now, a day afterwards, I feel guilty because I’ve missed the commenting boat. Other people, who have commented, clearly love Ben more. The only way I can possibly rectify the situation is by trumping a comment with a link. That’s how blog love works. The blug1 beats the comment. It’s like a game of scissors rock paper. The Blug beats the comment. The comment beats the read. And the read must therefore beat the blug – because there’s no point blugging if people aren’t reading.

1A portmanteau2 of blog and plug.
2The strategic mashing together of two words to form one concept. Like Venn diagramming words.

Confessions #3: I only let other cars in because I hope for a courtesy wave

Picture this. You’re driving to work/college/home. It’s peak hour. There are many other cars sharing the road. There’s a spot where cars are known to park in the left hand lane. You duly merge ahead of time, because you used to live on that stretch of road and know accidents happen there. It even has a “black spot” sign that acknowledges that the government knows accidents happen there but can’t be bothered installing a “no parking” sign because that would be expensive. But wait, they installed a black spot sign there… anyway.

You have merged into the middle lane and you decide to be charitable. You let other cars in. Helping them to avoid a certain fender bender. And what? No wave. That’s just rude.

Really. The courtesy wave. That’s what I live for on the road – I really am quite a courteous driver. But only because I want you to acknowledge that I’ve made your day that little bit easier by removing the stress that comes from an impending obstacle, or perhaps a long delay at an intersection. Perhaps you’re ignoring the road rules and I’m cutting you some slack. Know this. I only do it in the hope that you’ll either wind down your window and wave, or hold up your left hand under your rear view mirror in the universally accepted and acknowledged manner.

That is all.

Confessions: #2 sometimes I fake literary conversance

Making references to great literary works is a surefire way to impress educated people. Sometimes I do it even if I haven’t read the book – I find knowing a book’s opening and a little about the protagonist is enough to get by. Great literature often opens with a great, and memorable opening. It’s often possible to fake a workable knowledge of the classics just by paying attention to how other people use them.

For instance, this week, in Ben’s quiz, I made a “call me Ishmael” joke even though I’ve never actually read Moby Dick.

Do you have anything to confess?