Posted on 1 Oct 2009 by Meck
I had a great idea last June. My idea was to start a blog. I was living with my best friend Gabby at the time and I was like hey, I think I’m going to start a blog, you know, about Charlotte. And she was all, like the Meck Deck? And I was like, huh? To be honest I hadn’t read any Charlotte blogs yet. Actually, I hadn’t read any blogs at all yet, not counting the ones on myspace. But I had a great name. My blog is going to be called Keeping Up with the Belks, I told her, and she was like all ooook, can we watch Rock of Love reruns now?
Even though I’d never blogged before, I was certain that I would be a success. I’d written plenty of short stories and I took fiction writing at UNCC, where Dr. Gwyn would return my work bleeding with praise. Every time I got a draft back with “Um?” and “not sure to say about this one” written in red ink, I knew I was on my way.
I started to do some research to make sure that no one else already had a blog as awesome as mine was going to be. I googled “Charlotte blogs”. I found the Meck Deck. Too political. I found Yuptown. Too masculine. I found the Charlotte Magazine Daily Buzz. Too editorial. And I found CLT Blog. Too #FoJ-y. That’s when I knew, Charlotte needed me, needed a blog that was juuuust right.
Of course it wasn’t that long after I started that Matt and Justin were begging me to be a CLT Blog contributor. It was kind of embarrassing, actually. Matt was all, when are you going to write for us, you can write anything you want. And Justin was all, well actually not anything. And then James was all, hey I thought you were a dude. Then, and they will probably edit this out but I swear it happened, then they actually started fighting over who could convince me first to join the crew. And I was all alright, alright, chillax fellas. I’ll get around to it.
But then I never did. I was killed in a tragic blogging accident. Not really. But I went away for awhile. Why? Well, this next part is hard for me to admit. But when I didn’t win the BoB award for the best local blog it hurt. A lot. And when I didn’t win best twitterer, well, I kind of lost my will to live. When you dedicate so much of your life to the public and it goes unappreciated, that’s the sort of thing that’s tough to bounce back from.
So what happened next? To be honest I spent most of my summer writing dreary short stories, completing the twelve steps of Twitterholics Anonymous (step 8 was particularly time consuming. You can’t imagine how many apology letters I had to send to the Observer) and hanging around the FoJ Lodge. You probably don’t already know this, but I’ve actually been an integral part of the CLT Blog team for months now. I’ve done everything from driving the guys to video shoots to errand running during late night projects. These chores might seem menial to some, but when you have as many talents as I do, you can never serve in just one role. Some might like to call it being a “utility player.” I simply prefer “badass bitch.”
Then three months into my self imposed exile, fate came knocking. Actually it was Justin and Matt. At my front door. At 3am. And they were crying. With the CLT Blog redesign launch still underway (let’s pause here so you can admire how pretty it is…..Okay, that’s enough) it was clear that the site needed something special. Something exciting to draw in potential advertisers. Star power, if you will. No one else was available, or better qualified. I could see why they came to me. But I wasn’t interested. And I tried to tell them. I quit that blogging stuff. But they wouldn’t have it. Please, said Justin, you can write anything you want. And Matt was all, well not anything. Then I was like, you can get off your knees boys. I’ll write one post and that’s it. And then they started crying again. And there’s really only so much of it you can take after an entire summer. So I was like fine. I’ll be a contributor. Now leave me alone so I can write my introduction post. And Justin was all, um that’s weird, I mean, no one’s done it before. And I was like, there’s a first time for everything, duh.