5 years later. Thanks, Gwyneth.

I just looked at the calendar.

EXACTLY 5 years ago today I read an article on Gwyneth Paltrow written by one insanely amusing little blonde blogger with whom I'd eventually become casual "e-friends." She wrote this genius feature called "Gwyneth Paltrow -- she's not just like us!" for MSNBC. Until then, it had never dawned on me that the entertainment sections of major news networks would ever solicit the sarcastic wit of pop-culturally fluent post-college, marginally employed, hyper-motivated, generally underpaid twenty-somethings with a penchant for clothes out of our price range. Girls sort of like me. I found her blog and was instantly impressed by her contagiously readable writing and her every-girl appeal. She was funny! She was smart! She wrote about famous people! And shopping! And she made the same joke about the name Phil that my sister and I had made! Wouldn't it be funny if it was spelled Fil!

So, I decided to start blogging.

Back then it was over at "Observations on Stuff That Doesn't Matter," which I retired after 6 months when I discovered I was visually bored with the layout and had become a dull writer, phoning in cop-out posts about what I ate (or didn't eat) for breakfast - BUT, that's getting ahead of myself.

2006 was really the Golden Age of Weblogs - this was when Myspace was still relevant, Facebook was still for college kids and personal blogs were actually the go-to method of disseminating irrelevant information to everyone we knew. It was an era in which we still "networked socially" but the mechanism was different - it was an "I'll link to you on my site if you'll link to me on yours" world in which we all started our days by cruising everyone else's daily posts, commenting feverishly and hoping those comments directed traffic back to your own site. Or netted you a spot on a well-read blogger's "blogroll." Or snagged you an invitation to write a guest post when the site's owner went on vacation. Instant visibility. Instant readership. Instant inspiration to keep writing.

I ended up networked with a lot of New York City twenty-somethings. I worked the comment sections hard AND, for a brief stint, some of the most well-respected, widely read, wittiest bloggers in the 'sphere would drop by my site and pay attention. In 4 months I received as much traffic on that blog as I've received here in 4 years. I wrote every day. I had visions of straight-up, unadulterated grandeur, visions substantiated when handfuls of bloggers just like me began snagging book deals (or offers to write for Gawker; ironically, they're running a big Gwyneth feature today....interesting to see how some things DON'T change).

My plans at that point were to figure out how to become an occasional contributor to the entertainment sections of CNN.com and MSNBC.com and FOX.com. Never happened, but that was my focus.

Actually, for old time's sake, here's a snippet from my very first post, 5 long years ago:

I'm as envious as the next office rat about kids who's parents can afford expensive ivy league educations (and, ok, fine, I guess the kids had to work a little themselves), but add "Sophomore Harvard Kid With Book Deal" to that and I'm certifiably green-ish.

SO - imagine my disappointment (naw, better that that--my UTTER DISMAY...yep) when I noticed an article today about a teen chick-lit writer with a two-book deal and a "reported" six-figure advance being accused of plagarism. A Harvard student. Contributor to a local newspaper. Published author (aHA - so SHE'S the one out there stealing all the gigs I want while I'm sitting in an ergonimic antithesis, slapping the fax machine around, hoping the bank reconciliation balances for once...just this once...!). Fraud. Uhhh, yep, that's right. fraud.

Ok, so I'm probably overreacting...I'm just the aspiring writer-contributor-ivy leaguer stuck sitting at a desk all day in the accounting office of a construction company withering on the proverbial vine ("Yes, Bob Jones of Bob Jones Hauling and Excavating, I did sent your check for $624.12 on Friday, we paid that invoice in full. Yep, if you haven't received that by Wednesday, gimme a call back, I'll be glad to stop payment and reissue the check!" Now, be a good Mr Jones and never call me again! Thanks!)

I guess it made me start thinking...are the Harvard and Princeton and Stanford students of the world trading original, genuine thought and authentic compositions for an easy cruise on the coattaills of their alma mater's reputation? Have they become so disconnected from the rest of us working stiffs that they figure their school's brand is credit enough? Who needs to write their own material, they've got the greatest academic label in the country slapped on their forehead, who will bother to challenge 'em? I mean really, they worked hard enough to get where they're at, right? Isn't that enough? Good to know Harvard's busy creating the next generations's independent thinkers...

Sigh.

Oh, and I promise, I won't be nearly so soap-boxy by tomorrow...just had to brush off my "holier-than-thou" microphone and get a little social disdain worked outta my system. Watch out plagarizing ivy league sweetie-pies the country over...I imagine your agents will be thirsty for a hard-workin cute young thing like me once they're finished with scandalous damage-control. I've got plenty of my own ideas.

Ah, for now, uh...back to accounts receivable. Rich Guys A, B and C need to pay for their million-dollar remodels...hope their $450 toilet paper holders are servin 'em well. I imagine they probably graduated from someplace like Yale themselves...

Ehhh, not so bad. Sounds like me. My grumpy attitude about entitlement hasn't changed much. Different job now, new people to complain about. Still hoping to snag my own 6-figure book deal soon...

The thing about Golden Eras, I suppose, is that they're short-lived, over too quickly, appreciated more after the fact than during the heyday. So, too, with blogging.

Since we were all in our twenties and eager for better jobs, better paychecks, better apartments, and better boyfriends, things were constantly changing. The girl who inspired my blog was accepted to Columbia's journalism program and started working toward her Masters. On her first day, some of her professors admitted to enjoying her blog (which, by the way, she shut down the following week).

Some snagged big promotions at their "real jobs" and ended up with less time to devote to posts on pop stars and gripes about being single.

Others got married, or had babies, or just got tired of the pressure to stay entertaining. Facebook came along and made blogs (in their lengthier, wordier, more essay-like form) feel a little outdated. Then Twitter. Why waste time on 2 pages when you can get your fix in 140 characters?

Some of us stuck with it.

I'm still here.

Things have changed in the background, my peripheral focuses have evolved, my jobs and roommates and boyfriends have changed.

But not the fact that I still get an adrenaline rush from a well-crafted sentence.

Not the fact that I still want to entertain people with words.

Not the fact that I love the English language, love the impact of punctuation, love the whimsy of Unexpected Capitalization, love the never-ending source of giggles provided by famous people.

Not the fact that I'd love to snag book deal after book deal and live out my days in front of the keyboard, finding new famous people to target, new ways to make fun of myself, new topics to whine about and new ways to string words together.

However: I don't hate Gwyneth.

Not when she says things like, "The reason that I can be 38 and have two kids and wear a bikini is because I work my [expletive] ass off. It's not an accident. It's not luck, it's not fairy dust, it's not good genes. It's killing myself for an hour and a half five days a week, but what I get out of it is relative to what I put into it. That's what I try to do in all areas of my life."

Because I think that's a good parallel for what I'm trying to craft for myself here. I write every day. I work hard at this "second job" to keep my mind sharp and my writing skills honed and my love of all things literary at the front of my brain. So that when I find a publisher and hand over my finished product, I can be proud about the fact that it's not luck or some trick of nature that got me there - it was years of hard work that finally paid off.

In the meantime, thanks for stopping by - knowing I have even a few people reading what I write keeps me going.


5 years and counting.