A co-worker of mine told me that she had to write 1,000 word paper about a movie that she saw for a sociology class. This stunned me. Perhaps if you knew the facts of the case, it would stun you as well. She is a working mother with four children. She spends forty hours a week at her office job, and is taking classes at night from the University of Phoenix to get her associates degree in business. She is not, I repeat, NOT attempting to obtain a sociology degree which, in my opinion is the only degree you should be attempting to receive if your sociology “professor” insists that you write a thousand word essay on a movie. Movie critics at the New York Times write about movies all the time, and even though that’s what they get paid to do!, most are probably no more than 800 words, if that. A thousand words. To write about a movie. The script probably had less than a 1,000 words of dialogue in it. I’ve been stuffing this paragraph with more filler than Taco Bell’s seasoned meat, and I’m only up to 176 words. I don’t know how she did it, how long it took, or what grade she ended up getting on it. All I know is that the task itself seemed to righteously suck. What made it worse was that she didn’t even like the movie. She’s just a playa looking to get paid by slogging through night school, and instead she got stuck writing one long-winded paper about some stupid topic that she doesn’t care anything about, knows next to nothing about, and that isn’t in any way going to help her become a better supervisor. Ain’t that some shit?

Fast forward to today.

I have a couple of friends that insist that I start a blog. Misguided, gentle souls that they are, they seem to be convinced that writing a blog is right up my alley. It’s funny, because I see their insistence that I create a blog along the same lines as a woman who knits Christmas sweaters for herself (and her cats) views her friends who frequently suggest that she go on a coffee date with Delores from accounting, because once you get past her tangy, acrid body odor she’s a really nice lady, you’ll see. At first you sigh and politely decline. And then you just sigh and shake your head once while stifling a scream through a compressed, toothless smile. And then you meet Delores for coffee because you realize that they are never going to shut up about it. Ever.


I am going on this metaphorical coffee date.

I’m going to establish a few ground rules and see what happens.

1. I will try to write about one topic, once a week.

2. No topic is off-limits.

3. In honor of the painful writing assignment that my co-worker had to endure, I will try to make each essay about a 1,000 words long.

4. I’m up to 500 words. Fuck.

I have never created a blog before, so I have no idea what I am doing. I don’t know how to insert pictures or links or Death Cab for Cutie songs. I’m a Luddite when it comes to that sort of thing. (A “Luddite,” for those of you who don’t know is a person who reads Robert Ludlum books, but not on a Kindle or anything electronic like that.)

When creating a blog, it is important to come up with a catchy name for it. I’m all about honesty, so my first instinct was to call it the “Super Hot Fun Sex Kitten’s Guide to Life, Love & the World of Warcraft,” but I probably won’t talk about World of Warcraft all that much. Since I am surprisingly obsessed about the 1,000 Word Rule, I thought about calling it “MilliWord,” which not only conveys the size limit that I am so focused on, but also indicates that I am willing to embrace the metric system. This would make me appear to be exotic and European and kickass, like Milla Jovovich. Unfortunately, I could repeat the phrase “MilliWord” in my head a milli times and it would still sound stupid.

Since one of the friends who insisted I write has the last name of Hayes, I considered “The Hayse-y Days of Summer” in tribute. But, I quickly tossed that idea aside, as my OTHER friend would be furious, as she has been urging me to write this blog much longer than Ms. Hayes has even known me, and I just could not deal with the jealousy, although that WOULD make an awesome plot to center an episode of “The Hills” around. HER last name is Pugh, so I thought “Hey, Don’t Pugh Pugh the Hayse-y Days of Summer Idea” would be a great compromise, but it just seemed a little wordy. Plus, I don’t really think it is a good idea for my blog to be directed solely towards them, although without their ridiculously insane levels of encouragement/ruthless obsessive stalking, you would not see the words that you see before you today. I mean, there are plenty of valid reasons not to directly reference them in the title. For one, they probably stopped reading paragraphs ago, as they have attention spans of chipmunks and b)when I want to write to them I will send them a text message, like a normal person.

“Please. Hold Your Applause ‘Til The End” sounded remarkably narcissistic and obnoxious so, naturally, I was immediately drawn to it. But the more I thought about it, the more nuanced it sounded. ‘Til the end of what, exactly? No, really, don’t applaud. Or, maybe, yes, you should?…because can’t we all just take a moment to celebrate the fact that I actually took the first step towards doing this thing, whatever this is.

It’s obnoxious at first glance and incredibly self-absorbed. But, the more you look at it, the more layered and subtle it actually becomes. Kinda like…me.

One thousand words. Awesome.







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