overkill

I read a few blogs. Some are about cooking, some are about fashion, some are about home decor, some are like mine, and some are just very randomly awesome.

It's cool having an outlet so that I can mention things like how the cat likes to perch on the arm of the couch lately, and comes running when I open my bag of chocolate covered craisins because it's the same kind of package as her treats. Sorry kitty.
Or have a place to vent when things piss me off or I need to organize some thoughts. Or you know, hope that someone out there relates to me and the everyday things I like to write about. Or thinks the latest cat video is funny too. Or not. It's whatevs and ultimately it's my own project, whether or not people read it.

I've come to notice, though, that some people take blogging to a whole new level. It's like they walk around with a camera documenting their entire lives just so they can run home and blog about themselves and every tiny thing they did and/or post a billion pictures of themselves.

For example, food bloggers: Do we really need to have a picture and a description of every single thing that you eat? Who cares that you had a snack of two organic, naturally-dried-under-the-Egyptian-sun-while-monks-blessed-their-nutrition apricots after your 15-mile run... day after day? We also don't need a step-by-step recipe on how you prepared your morning oatmeal.

It's like their own little mini reality show on the internet, starring their favorite person. Their lives revolve around their blog and the approval of strangers keeps them going.

It's just got me wondering how annoying it is for everyone else around them.

Anyway. I woke up this morning wanting to laze around in bed all day but we've got company coming over and I must drag my lazy princess ass out of bed and hang out. I wonder if I can get away with staying in my pajamas if I just put on a bra...