The day after my birthday / by Mariko Brenner

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Today I receive a text message from my friend Kelly.  It was a reminder that we have promised to hold each other accountable for making some sort of regular consistent effort in posting to our blogs.  First of all very idea of having a blog is horrifying.  The word itself is an ugly one, both the sight of it in print, and the sound it makes rolling off of the tongue. Then there is the untrue but convincing voice which tells me I simply do not have time to write.  Maybe, next week or year, or lifetime, basically, some other time.  Next the defeatist voice which chimes in, saying even if you post this thing, it wont matter.  A blog with a single post has no value.  The blog only becomes a thing of value if you continue to add to it, and you will never do anything with it again.  What it the point of even trying?  I try to shush these and other voices, assuring them we have time, and that if I would only write a little bit regularly, there would be 52 posts by the end of the year.  When this number is met with scorn and derision, I suggest 12 blog posts (one per month) as a negation tactic.  Opposing council is favorably moved by this, and still notting happens.  This is where having a Kelly Moody is so helpful.  All of a sudden there is someone to notice if I write something and share it, for not.  Someone to chart the passage of time with me, as I fly off into inky depths of my mind, with its ever changing constellation of thoughts, moving through time relativity and space.