Blob Lang Syne

Ghosts of Blobs Past

Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
on Old long syne*

Since the unexamined blob is not worth blogging, I can’t let pass the opportunity to reflect on the first year of the Bloblessness Project (2011).  It also helps that so generously provides its bloggers with such swift-looking infographics.  Behold the Brass Tacks of blob-bloggery:

[The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.]

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 8,500 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 3 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

The Ghosts of Blobs Present

My Heart is ravisht with delight,
when thee I think upon;
All Grief and Sorrow takes the flight,
and speedily is gone;
The bright resemblance of thy Face,
so fills this, Heart of mine;
That Force nor Fate can me displease,
for Old long syne.*

As a friend posted to Facebook over the holidays: “I’m taking off work on January 2 because I can’t be expected to observe the arbitrary demarcation of time on a Sunday.”  And of course it’s true, that the turn of the year is perhaps the most arbitrary tappings on the re-set button, and may actually be more akin to a societal slap of the snooze.  But still, isn’t it too welcome of an opportunity to shed the old, the useless, the broken, the tired, the taxing and unhelpful to – at the very least – make room for the hope of the new, the eager, the rested, the useful, the re-wired and regenerated?  This year in particular presents a most welcome threshold for me – The Big Three-Oh-Emm-Gee.  Not only is it the turn of another year, it is the turn of they last year in which I’ll be a young, green, know-nothing, fresh-faced, post-teen newbie.  Now I’ll just be a plain old know-nothing, crumpled-paper-bad-looking newbie.  (Cue: impotent kazoo-sounding party favor noise).  Stepping over this arbitrary demarcation not just in the calendar but also in my life, I’ve made a list of 30 Things About Being Thirty:

Things I’m Leaving Behind in My Twenties:

  1. Gossip (Only about people I know; Hollywood is still fair game).
  2. Cheap Shoes (nb: inexpensive is not necessarily cheap.  I mean cheaply made).
  3. 15 lbs of “Just one more beer.
  4. Ignorance. (People in their thirties watch the news).
  5. Guilt.
  6. Suspicion.
  7. Competition.

    Comparison is the theif of joy. Theodore Roosevelt
    Jacked From: Foxontherun at
  8. Dogma. (“I always . . . ,” “I’d never . . . ,” and “I only . . . ,” — buh-buy).
  9. Going along to get along.
  10. Lackadaisy.
  11. The idea that movement = progress (better than the hamster on a wheel, at least a snail is moving).
  12. Addiction to trash TV.
  13. The obsessive search for outside approval.
  14. Frenemies.
  15. My biological clock.

Things I’m Taking With Me (or plan to find) on the Other Side:

  1. Fiscal responsibility.
  2. Timeliness. (Stop laughing.)
  3. Personal style.
  4. Bigger better BHAGs (Thanks, Lululemon Athletica, for the term BHAG: Big, Hairy, Audacious Goal).
  5. Vitamins.
  6. Cleanliness. (It now is next to blobliness.)
  7. The answer “No.”
  8. Me time.
  9. Motivation. (One of the smartest people I know says, “Don’t wish for it; Work for it.”)

    You will succeed because most people are lazy.
    Jacked From:
  10. Mobility. (Go. see. DO.)
  11. Humor.
  12. Faith.
  13. Help.  (Offering it, asking for it, giving it, and taking it.).
  14. My give-a-damn.
  15. My very few, but very close, friends.

Ghosts of Blobs Future

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
and surely I’ll buy mine !
And we’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne. **

I have fun considering the fact that this all got started with a puny failed commitment to 90 days with Tony Horton and has since developed from there to a whole-life revolution (or at least a montage-worthy makeover, right? “We’re the kids in America.”).  It is exciting to think of the future as more than a mere three months to a taughter midsection. See what 2012 has in store for this blob here, and give me a glimpse into your own bloblessness efforts by leaving a comment below.

After all: Blobbery still loves company.

* Stanzas from Old Long Syne, by James Watson (1711),

** Stanza from Auld Lang Syne, English Translation (minimalist),


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