I was planning to take the night off from my typical ramblings, but I remembered something this evening that I decided couldn’t be ignored for even one more day. Namely, that I missed my anniversary. Well, actually, I should say that I missed our anniversary, but it’s alright. I did it with good reason.
You can all relax; I’m not talking about my wedding anniversary. That was in October, and was marked by one of my favorite, albeit somewhat sappy posts. And trust me, had I overlooked that event, odds are good the Puddinette wouldn’t have left me any fingers with which to type. No, instead, I’m talking about the first anniversary of Puddintopia. At least, the first anniversary of me deciding to put some effort into it.
The night I actually wrote that first post was January 29th, 2010. It didn’t publish until after midnight, or at least whenever my server thought it midnight, which could have been anywhere from 9:15 pm to 2 am. Either way, that particular post claims the 30th as its publication date. Leave it me complicate something as relatively simple as time-stamping.
At any rate, I was planning to do the anniversary bit up proper with a “Hooray and Three Cheers” kind of post on Saturday, but I got all caught up in the pizza business, and well, that grew a life of its own. In my mind, things definitely worked out better this way, regardless. Writing the question of the famous pizza, followed by the fun of its near-immediate delivery and subsequent sampling, was infinitely more entertaining than if I’d spun a thousand words patting myself on the back by reviewing the last year in posts.
If I learned anything over the past year, it’s that in bloggery (it is too a word…maybe), you take what you’re given each day and run with it. Honestly, when I first concocted this scheme, I feared for not having something useful and/or entertaining to say on a mostly daily basis. I was petrified the exercise would quickly devolve into little more than an itemized recounting of my day. “Dear Diary, today I woke up and couldn’t find a pair of socks that matched in the dark, so I just grabbed two. I got to work with a brown one with holey toes and an argyle one with a gaping heel large enough that Andre the Giant could have passed through easily. Then I spilled Cocoa Puff milk on my shirt. FML.”
Luckily, life is apparently at least somewhat more interesting than that.
So, anyway, shortly I will be raising a glass containing a beverage worthy of celebration and toasting the last 12 months, and the nearly 170,000 words about nothing that filled them.
I hope you will toast with me, because I could not have possibly done this without all of you.