Every year or two, I start a new blog. I go, “Hey! I’m sorta interesting and sometimes I say funny things! I can write shit on the internet!” I get really excited about it for say, a month or two, then occasionally every three months or so, until I find it randomly and realise that my last post is from more than a year ago. So then I start it all over again.
It’s the circle of life, updated for the digital age.
Recently I’ve been surrounding myself with a bunch of creative types: comedians, writers, poets, storytellers. It made me get the itch again, so here we are.
Though I’m an American living in Hong Kong, my life isn’t really all that interesting. I teach at school every day. I go to stand up comedy a few times a week. I waste money on a gym membership that I never, ever use. It’s basically the same thing I would do back home, only with the added bonus of only understanding about half of what’s going on around me at any given time (or maybe that’s the same as back home too).
To be fair, everyone and their mom has a blog now, so what would set me and my experiences apart from someone else? My good looks and charm? I am pretty goddamn charming. My grandma says so.
I consider my role online to be the same one I play on stage: I’m the person who distracts you for a few minutes. Turn to me when you’re stuck in a meeting that just won’t end, and you’ve already exhausted all your usual news sites. Check me out when you’re sitting on the toilet but locked out of the next level of Candy Crush. Come to me when you’re stuck on the train, avoiding eye contact with that old woman whom you KNOW you should give your seat up to, you heartless dick.
I’ll be there for the chuckle, at least until my students find my blog and I need to delete all the evidence.
Let’s do this shit.