One day when I was probably about 10 or 11, I was in my bedroom with a Barbie doll I had retrieved from the depths of some piles of stuff in a closet or under my bed. I decided that even though I had never really liked Barbies at all, I wanted to have a pretend friend who I would know everything about and who I could tell everything to. It lasted all of 18 seconds. Probably because Barbies are mute. I wanted to have a companion who would only know the good things about me and would be limited to that picture. Likewise, I would only know the neat and tidy things about her; the things I imagined didn't include catching colds and bodily functions.
Blogs seem to be a way for people to present a certain image of themselves - I can post whatever information I feel like presenting, and viewers who don't know me are limited to that information. My clothes on the floor and dishes on the counter probably won't make the cut in what I write. But they're there.
That's also one of the things I like about looking at other people's blogs. I can imagine that someone's car is clean, their office is immaculate and efficient, and their bathroom isn't filled with half-empty jars and bottles. I can imagine that they lead a magazine life. A TV character's life. One with no depth, but man, is it neat.
I'm realizing more and more that it truly is the 'messy' things in life that make it interesting and that make people unique. The messiness rounds everything out and makes us human. Trying to overcome those things and 'attain' just isn't worth it.

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