A lot of complaining goes on, around my workplace, about the whole blah-blah-blah-blogging thing, but finally this weekend, I took the time to read Andrew Sullivan’s treatise on the matter in the November Atlantic Monthly, and I’ve got to say it made me feel a lot better.

You should read it, too, since you’re here, which means you read blogs, if not blog yourself: http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200811/andrew-sullivan-why-i-blog

I also felt much better today after tracking down this poem, parts of which had been floating through my head all morning. It’s recited aboard a boat somewhere in the bowels of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory — I recall it from the original, though it seems too good for Tim Burton to have passed up.  (Did Dahl write it? Or is it a famous literary gem by someone else that I missed along the way?)

In any case, for me, it equates nicely — if a bit on the melodramatic, macabre side — to the whole blogging thing: 

There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There’s no knowing where we’re rowing
Or which way the river’s flowing

Is it raining, is it snowing
Is a hurricane a-blowing

Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of Hell a-glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing

Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they’re certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing

I have no idea where that came from, but it’ll be appropriate, I suppose, at Annabelle’s bowling-themed birthday party Sunday.

(I’m bummed — I wanted to put “We Had a Bowl” on the goody bag tags, but realized in the nick of time that, um, that won’t quite work. Mom, I’ll explain later.

But thanks to my sister, I do think I’ve solved the conundrum over how to decorate the cupcakes with “tiny edible bowling balls,” Annabelle’s request. More on that later.)

Anyhow, the whole “Daddy-o” and “Mommy-o” schtick got so many laughs that Sophie’s tried it out on just about everyone she’s encountered in the past few days: Megan-o, Annabelle-o, Gaga-o, Grandma-o. I’ve gotten some mileage out of telling the story around the office.

I just told a co-worker about it. After she chuckled over what she dubbed “the comedic stylings of Sophie,” I said, “Hey, that went over so well I’ll have to blog about it!”

She looked uncomfortable. “Oh, I need to read your blog! I still haven’t!”

I assured her that it’s best to skip it, as I’m quickly realizing this whole blog thing is putting a damper on live conversation. In the past week, at least three people have said, “Uh, yeah, I know. I read that,” when I’ve tried to share some life detail.

It’s a brave new bungle, this whole blog thing.