(or: about 765 words of gross self-indulgence)
at least my real friends care about me
Dear Cavalier Flair:
I’m so sorry. I started this blog last October, with some pretty different intentions than what I have now.
My darling, my darling, my life and my bride. I am sorry and utterly repentant of neglecting you. I have owned this slice of cyberspace for a few months short of a year now, and I have not given you the proper attention and stimulation a blog deserves. Cavalier Flair, I hope beyond hope that you can forgive me.
I had the best intentions of being a dutiful and passionate writer for you this summer. But I succumbed to the laziness that inevitably strikes even the best of us when we realize we have three months to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I know this is not an excuse, and that my apology will only be valid with actions that show my change of heart.
I have said over and over and over again that I would write more, and actually pay attention to this precious slice of cyberspace. And time and time again, I have failed on an awesome level.
So, again I must say, I truly apologize, and I fully acknowledge that I deserve any opprobrium I might receive from you.
Cavalier Flair, in the hands of another, you would be pampered and loved, cherished and doted on. But in my hands, you are neglected and starved. And yet you stay by me. You are the definition of a trooper. When rappers spit details of their “ride or die” chick, my mind wanders to you and your unwavering dedication to me. And for that, I will always be grateful.
In these last few, sweet weeks of summer, I will dedicate myself you, and show myself worthy of the title, “blogger”. If, and only if, you will give me that chance.
With much respect and contrition,
Crissa
——–
The letter above comes from serious place from inside me. As over the top as it is, I really do feel bad about not being a “better blogger.”
Like I said before, I’ve had this blog since October. And it has had no real direction since the beginning. I initially started it to write about situations I went through that dealt with my faith. I’ve touched on that, but that isn’t what I want to fully dedicate Cavalier Flair to.
As I started reading fashion, hair and makeup blogs, I wanted to write about those topics as well. But it’s not all I wanted to write about. I didn’t want to have just another fashion/hair/makeup blog.
Subsequently, I have a lot of ideas and drafts backed up, but what you’ll see when you browse Cavalier Flair is pretty much a bunch of filler posts.
It honestly causes me a bit of stress. And it’s made me realize…blogging, as I knew it, has changed.
When I started “blogging”, I was thirteen, and I just wanted an outlet without worrying if someone I knew would see it. First I wrote at Diary-x and Diary-land. Then Xanga, LiveJournal, even this place called “HateLife”. :-/
I made my official teenage online journal dojo at Xanga.
before the hipster paradise of tumblr, there was xanga
And I wrote about whatever. I really wouldn’t call what I did then “blogging”. Just typing on an online journal. A space for me to rant about my first world problems, abuse the English language like I was related to Ike Turner and add a devastating amount of “zzzzz’s” to my words.
But, I grew out of that. Middle school was over, and social networking soon dominated my life, for better or worse.
But, as I have grown more serious about writing, I’ve returned to blogging, and realized that more people start out blogs dealing with a specific topic. And if people do blog about life in general, then, more often than not, it’s kind of boring.
I want to go back to blogging about “whatever.” To spewing word vomit about all of my life, and just certain aspects of it, and to do it in at least a mildly entertaining way.
I may have been self-absorbed and immature during my time at Xanga, but damn it, I had a voice. And that’s the thing that’s kept me from writing, not just on here, but just writing period. I stopped honing my voice, and it became this lame whisper of mediocrity and fail. But, I’m working on that. It may take a while, but trust, I am working on that.
I guess in short, I’m saying that I’m reverting to being 14-year-old Crissa.
God help us all. 
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