Sunday, November 14, 2004

the house is now open

aaaaaand hello to my new audience!

a quick explanation to those who have just joined in on the Royal Toybox, which is pretty much, well, everyone but me: see, up until yesterday, I'd been a closet blogger. I really didn't want to pass this around too much for a few reasons, not the least of which is that I just didn't know if I'd have the time and drive to keep up with it. as evidenced by the last few posts, though, I think we can all agree I'll be around for at least a little while.

I also have to admit I was a little nervous about really opening up to the world. yeah, I don't have to worry about sneezing gum on you, but this swimming hole that is the weblog world is a little chilly and if I jump right in, I'll surely die of shock before I can get used to it. and, I'm just now noticing, I really have to work on my metaphors before I'll be audience-ready. sorry about that.

my hope was to wait a week and then tell everyone about the toybox, but I got a little too excited, and let it slip to aaronson and zykowski. now everyone in springfield knows.

so welcome, my friends. you're a little early, but I'm no less happy you could stop in! leave me comments, ask me questions, and by all means, share with me your own blog addresses. I need new people to steal from.


Anonymous said...

I do not understand the need to do this, Mikie, but if it helps, I suppose it beats taking Ritalin at your age. I confess that I am not really familiar with blogging. When I first heard the term, I truly thought it was a form of dancing with heavy wooden shoes...something like Mormons doing Riverdance.

I do hope, however, in your enthusiasm for spilling your psyche all over the web, like some kind of cyberbarf, you will tread carefully upon the family's vast store of carefully buried skeletons.

You have undoubtedly inherited the DNA for a characteristic Papa once delicately labelled, "Diarrhea of the mouth" It is a genetic trait which runs rampant throughout the family, and which has an unfortunate habit of manifesting itself at cocktail parties, Thanksgiving and occasionally at Mass. One can usually tell when it has struck by the odd numbers of jaws sweeping the carpet, just as the vapor dissipates from the words one has accidentally pooped directly from the unedited cerebral cortex to the lips.

So, do be careful.

Otherwise, by all means, have fun, play nicely with the other bloggers and aviod watching Fox News at all costs.( The last bit of advice is my standard issue to

sarah said...

Welp, mine's been "secret" for three years. I guess I'm going to have to start talking about something other than cute boys and what I had for lunch. :)
Welcome, garvey!