Writing can kiss my... something something...

Today's random segue: Recently, I've had a couple of people come up to me tell me that their blogs are dull. Usually somewhere in the conversation there's a line in there like "my blog is so dull... I wish it was more interesting to read like yours Obi". I'll refute compliment another time - the point I want to make is that more than one person has come up to me basically said that they enjoy reading what I have to type because: a) it's a blast b) funny c) interesting d) deep e) random f) I have nothing better to do and it beats reading the New York times. In any case, people seem to think I'm basically a decent writer.

The funny thing is, growing up I HATED writing. No wait scratch that: HATED... I LOATHE writing. If I could, I would have dragged it hateful body across a muddy field of cow poop by the ankle and dipped it into burning tar only to poke holes in it with dull spoons. Yes. I loathed it. I was just never that kid that like writing and creating compositions or thought of how lovely prepositions compounded with verbs could be in poetic Byronistic style with a peta-pentatholonic meter. Personally I write because I have the world's worst memory (I play a game of hide and seek with my personal belongings everyday: I have something of mine in my hand and in 10 minutes I'm seeking what it was I had. Sometimes this is preceded by trying to remember what I had in hand so I can successfully seek it). This poor memory led me to conclude I should record my thoughts somewhere so I can look back when I'm 30 and senile and remind myself that I actually did do something on the way to the old folks' home.

So what did I like in school? Math and computer programing (computer scripting if you want to get technical...). Yup - at 7 years old I was memorizing multiplication tables and understanding the concept of fractions and division. At 9 I was foregoing recess time so I could just trouble shoot my latest animation that I programmed with Macintosh's Hypercard (circa mid 80's). Finding derivatives was something I did in High school to calm the nerves.

So what happened? I decided math was interesting but didn't want it to be my life. I figured climbing was a better way to go... I mean it's logical right? I'm swinging by my arms across a large rock face, putting my life and limb at risk to have fun. Constantly poor with no fame or glory. Writing about my trips in some blog on my little piece of cyberspace. All instead of becoming a computational modeler forcing Matlab to crunch numbers and simulating real world settings using statistical data and making 6 figures, driving a hot sports car and having a kick ass entertainment system. Wait... oh... *sob sob*....