Material

Unfortunately, I have too much material. Sadly, I feel unable to harness the power of said material as it always causes problems. My friends don't like it when I post their secrets, but their secrets are so much better than mine. Every time I write about my family, I get a barrage of enraged emails and instant messages. Since I talk to most of them so rarely, the amount of material I get from them is limited. The rest isn't worth the grief I would get from writing about it. Today I realized that I had inadvertently given the Pole a clue to this site, and had to go through and delete all references that referenced him in a positive light. I can't write too much about my exes as they are the only ones that regularly read my site (and my cousin Laura, props!). I worry if I say the things I want to say, one of them may, god forbid, contact me. I don't write about the things I do and say because they are either so boring, racist or liable to get me fired or destroy my future political career. I mean, should I really post about the handjob class that I took or about my incredibly self-destructive shopping problem? Like I need to give my friends and family any more reasons to shun me.

The only decent news I have right now is that I tried *snowboarding*. Yes, I know it's unbelievable. I managed to stay upright for more than 30 seconds at a time, but was so scared every time I started picking up speed that I would immediately throw myself face-first into the snow. I emerged covered in bruises, nearly unable to walk, but with a sense of quiet dignity--victory over inertia and the psychological inability to try new things.

In other news, I've Googled variations of the term "live for the anecdote," and it appears that I was the first to coin this term on the Internet. If you find out different, don't tell me. Let me have my moment.