The Pointy Universe turned two years old this weekend. And you thought that humungous bouncehouse in the backyard on Saturday was for the kids? Two years of blogging, narcissism and nonsense have left me strangely uncluttered. I’ve noticed the heap of crap under my bed has gotten smaller. There are fewer boxes overflowing with post-it notes, scribbled–on cocktail napkins and ticket stubs, there are fewer piles of journals and vacation quotebooks. Instead of tucked away in five-subject notebooks, the random musings and mind clutter are out *there* and not in here. This blog has been the perfect outlet for my obsessive documenting.
Joan Didion said “Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.” While anything but private, blogging is a similar affliction. But it’s much less lonely. For me, the PU provides a connection, a way to keep up. This is especially important when you work alone at home (or Panera, Whole Foods, other WIFI hot spots) While I can’t imagine ever going to an office again, it gets lonesome in the alcove sometimes.
Blogs can also be a decent creative outlet for the nicheless. I still don't know what I want to write about. I want to write about everything -- my dog's stalker, the appetizers at Suppah Club, etc. I don't know if it's a presentiment of loss so much as classic oversharing, but I'm compelled to do it.
What I love the most about the PU, however, are the comments. I live for them -- the hilarious and insightful ones, even the ones from angry trolls. Without comments, I'm just a nut banging on the keyboard, screaming at the ocean. So to all who lurk and participate: I'm glad you’re part of my tiny universe.
Which sometimes, doesn't feel so tiny: Someone from Zurich answering a quizilla, random comments from South Africa, etc. With 30 billion+ blogs out there, it blows my mind when someone finds mine.
My anonymous writer friend who consistently exacerbates my inferiority complex but never ever disappoints in the comment box stumbled across the PU searching for a North Carolina musician whose name resembled our pal Giana’s in Seattle. Random.
And God knows how many 70s throwbacks have collided with the PU over the past two years, Sabrina Duncan.
In the spirit of silliness, I thought I’d share a smattering of the search words that have been typed into Google to find the PU. Yikes. Not sure I want some of these birds in the universe. At first glance, you’d think this was some Judeo-Christian fetish site. And what’s with all the pork references?
Isle of man slut
spotted dick recipe
Is humping a stuffed toy harmful for dogs
Massive Armenian Clusterfuck
pork trailer busting at seams
video of anorexic woman tap dancing with an umbrella
doggy style fishnet stockings
lente loco pantsuit
submissive quaker parrot baby
Anal Egyptian Prostitutes
naked jewish chicken fight
Bong hits 4 Jews
Make a sentence:
“I went overboard with the hog sauce and now my pork trailer is busting at the seams. So, I put on my lente loco pantsuit and paid a visit to the Pork Wizard.”