On Blogging.

Last night I was at a small get-together when one of my friends proclaimed that "blogging is useless."

Of course, he's (mostly) right.

Yes, sure, there are blogs such as The Sartorialist, which are now so large that they're just websites, not  what we think of when we think "blogs." But when it comes to tiny blogs like mine, with everyday thoughts like mine, my friend is right.

Who the eff cares?

Perhaps I've done myself a disservice by not picking a blog "theme," like traveling or food or photography, because, let's face it, simply being Denise isn't a theme.

But, the thing is, it feels like one sometimes.

For instance, yesterday my roomies and I went to Chick Fil A for brunch - and when I say brunch, I mean it. I ordered a chicken biscuit and waffle fries, after the friendly employee told me that they were now serving breakfast AND lunch during those hours on Saturdays.

"That was delicious, and it was just what I wanted," I announced to Genessa in the car, as we drove to pick up her television from a guy she found on Craigslist. "I think I might blog about it."

No one was surprised. My fellow housemates are accustomed to me saying I'm "going to blog about" anything that strikes my weird fancy. And it's not always hipster, trendy, social media-worthy shit.
In fact, it never is.

So, I guess my friend had a point. Writing about my random-ass life on blogspot IS useless, if he means as reading material for him. But as a writing outlet for me, it's perfect.

And I make no apologies for this hodge-podge.