The last straw

I'd been tenaciously avoiding the temptations of Blog for several years now.

I had good reasons:

1. I don't have the time to spare.
2. I already spend too much time in an online community (a.k.a. Eunoia) with assorted friends.
3. I don't have anything original to say.
4. Nobody would read it.

When the desire for Blog came to me, it would whisper rationalizations in my ear, in a sort of sly, snivelling Gollum-voice:

You read many blogsss. Having your own blog would let you tie them all together, preciousss! You would use it to do good thingsss, to say nice thingsss about the good blogsess, yesss you would!
All the othersss has one of their ownsess. You don't exist without one, no, no!
All the othersss need to know what you're thinking, preciouss. Your opinion is ssso important, the mossst importantest, yess. Why lose your brilliant ideassess, precious? Publish them all, waste your time, argue with strangersss, talk about your petssses, complain about everything, you deserve it, you need it YES YESSS YESSSS!

Up until today I had successfully ignored these sweet and obviously corrupting words of seduction. But then the last straw came. Let's just call her... C. Or maybe that's too obvious. Let's call her, a letter of the alphabet.

A letter of the alphabet is a friend who lives a few hours away in a scenic city in a valley and who I've been reconnecting with. (Whom I've been reconnecting with?) Anyways, the point is:

She just created a blog. With a catchy title. From a song I love. And that was it, man. I was sold. I said, "If she's going create a blog (and hey, blogs are a good way to connect with people who live some distance away!) with a catchy title that I should've thought of, from a song I love, then I'm going to create one too. Damn the torpedos."

Somewhere in the distance I can hear my common sense yelling "Don't do it! You have a cold! You're not thinking straight! Don't publish it! Whatever you do, don't press that button...