when i started this blog, oh, 8 months ago, i had one goal in mind: get famous.  i mean the total all-out no-hards-barred bloggy limelight—gawker mentions, followers, micro-celebrity.  profiles in the times magazine like that emily gould woman.  books deals like stuff white people like (white people like me, but do i get any respect? no).  free drinks at my favorite bar.  women throwing themselves at me.  men throwing themselves at me.  a position in the president’s cabinet.

and i’ve tried. i’ve worked hard to make this the best worst blog on the planet.  i’ve put my blood sweat tears pus semen spit phlegm into this blog.  i’ve lost sleep.  i’ve destroyed relationships.  i’ve let my schoolwork falter.  and what have i got?  nothing.  zilch.  black holes.  headaches.  anguish.  suicide-watch.

sooo…i was reading the wall street journal today, as i’m apt to do. i got bored reading about stimulus packages and plane crashes and started skimming.  then i found this:

and said to myself, “I know her!” her name is erin.  she writes a blog called “i hate cilantro.”  she was interviewed for an article about hating cilantro. (i myself am indifferent to cilantro, i.e. i don’t have strong feelings either way except this one time i grew cilantro and it turned out to be a total herb garden hog, stealing soil and water and air from thyme and parsley, which just wasn’t fair.  i hated cilantro then).

what this means is that erin a) is much more pointillistic than i remember her and b) will now have gawker mentions, followers, micro-celebrity, profiles, book deals, sex, cabinent positions.

about these things, i am extraordinarily jealous.