The need to identify oneself as "for" or "against" something or someone seems to gain traction every now and again here in the Blogosphere - for example, you're either entirely for or against the President, and then there was that tete-a-tete involving a certain clothing brand
It's not just us naughty bloggers, either - witness the enthusiasm civilian people put into cataloging their interests in places like Facebook, "I Change Diapers!" being my recent favorite. There's a drive shared by blogger & non-blogger alike to wear certain interests on your web sleeve, as it were.
It takes me back to those storied junior high years, when young (ahem) ladies were forced to keep actual written diaries vs. the glorified digital versions we now keep here on the internet. Back then, I lived to Brand myself, to let the world - as defined by my family, a few friends, and dreamy Matt in Pre-Algebra - know where I definitively stood on vitally important topics such as the environment (yes) and Christian Slater (yes times pi)(whatever that is)(someone may have been reading "Sweet Valley High" under her desk during Pre-Algebra)(Parentheses).
|My yet-to-be published memoir cover - as created & written in the 7th grade, that is. Apparently I stood for the environment and pre-crazy Tom Cruise. Yes, my parents remain proud.|
*Unless in reference to the Crocs issue, because . . . no. I'm right.
In short, I don't miss junior high - at all, though I never met a "Saved By the Bell" rerun I didn't adore. Fake junior high I miss.
There comes a time, however, when a blogger must choose a team. One can only remain on the sidelines for so long while one's heartfelt beliefs are being bandied about on Twitter like so many fascinator feathers (hint: foreshadowing).
Let me make it clear: I'm a feminist, albeit one of the pearl-wearing sort, who's also an ardent believer in stuff like representative democracy and tradition only within reason. I harbor no illusions of being nor desire to be an actual princess, frequent overuse of the Royal "We" notwithstanding.
|Photo credit: Simon Spicer, with thanks to the IWOM for sending this utterly perfect card.|
I am also . . . on Team Royal Wedding. There, I said it!
I, Pretty, - the one who was up at 3 am not long ago, quite involuntarily, thanks to dear Master P - have programmed my DVR & am considering setting the alarm & the Keurig for that same time this Friday. I, a person allergic to collectible anything (books & shoes don't count, because I said so), am awaiting a shipment of the tackiest royal wedding "tat" pounds can buy from my dear UK-based friend, the International Woman of Mystery.
Fire away, Team #icouldntcareless, but this Episcopalian never met a Pomp nor a Circumstance she didn't adore, fancy-pants weddings especially included. Or much involving England, for that matter, but my Anglophilia aside - it's just a compelling love story. Royals or no, that just doesn't get old to this Austen fan. A hard news story? Not even remotely, but I'll take this felicitous distraction over the usual La Lohan fluff.
So let's live & let watch, or not. Besides, it's an improvement over the Christian Slater years - right? Right???