This is the First Post on Absorbing the Genius. I shan't call it the "inaugural" post, for reasons that will become clear later on.

But it is certainly The Beginning of Everything.

I suppose I should get some of the introductory stuff out of the way.


I am one of many who read blogs for quite some time, thinking, "I would like to have a blog of my own, but I am not as entertaining as these folks I read every day." Many of the bloggers I was reading then thought the same thing, before they finally realized they were wrong (was I wrong? comment below!). Much of what I was reading then (blogs and pre-blog "diaries" or whatever) were written by women struggling with infertility of one kind or another. The vast majority found some way of having children but the lengths they went to were incredible, and inspiring. I just had to take some pills, give myself some injections, succumb to multiple ultrasounds and blood draws, suffer a couple of losses, and the eventual result was: I am a mother of two boys. (I don't mean to make light of this; it was heartbreaking and frustrating but I'm not getting into it now.)

I finally started a blog on momsbuzz.com, but there were technical problems with that one. I think of it as the practice blog. I didn't tell any of my friends and family it was there.


I complained to my friend Linda about the problems I was having at momsbuzz, and she kindly offered me a contributor spot on her blog. In the beginning I received comments from the other contributors, so I knew someone was reading me. I posted about life, trying to relate to others, the way the blogs I followed did for me. But no one really knew I was there. (I must take a moment now to thank Linda, without whom I would not be here. Linda has the distinction of writing some posts that have garnered hits from all over, for years on end, such as this one.)

So when this post of mine, which actually tackled a Substantive Issue, went live, I e-mailed a boatload of friends and family about it. I figured if I was taking the time to let them know about something I'd published on the Internet, they'd go read it. I went as far as telling them that I'd send homebaked brownies to the person who left the "best" comment (because we all know that a blogger doesn't know your opinion of what you've just read unless you comment).

Brownies for comments. I know, it's pathetic. It didn't stop there. On Facebook, I linked to the Big Issue post and other posts recounting cute things my kids did, pretending each time that "I" (using my real name) couldn't stand this 12tequilas person, warning people to stay far away from her blog posts, and expressing my disbelief that she would beg shamelessly for comments by offering baked goods and other prizes. (Then I would comment on my own status, conversation style, as if I were two people, to save others the trouble.) I thought that this was an incredibly clever form of reverse psychology and that it would work.

Status Update: I want to make sure that no one goes to auterrific.mu.nu to read 12 Tequilas's loony writings.

Comment (from me): Uh, didn't you already tell us about this? And why shouldn't we go read the new blog post with the provocative title?

Reply (still from me): Yes, I told you already, but I worry. If people read this, and leave complimentary comments, her head will swell so much it will explode. And then her charming and handsome husband will have to scrape brain matter from the wall. We can't have that.

Surreply (from me, again): I see. It's so good of you to warn all of your Facebook friends of this danger.

A friend commented to ask if my brain scan had come out normal, to which I replied, "It's all from reading SCARY blogs, which are a form of MIND CONTROL." When another friend noted that such comments would make everyone want to go to that blog (which, duh, was the whole point), I said, "Look, [friend], if you want to give that crazypants 12 Tequilas the satisfaction, then go check out her stuff. Beware, you might be entertained or you might learn something. And if you comment, I hear you could get brownies. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Wouldn't you at least be CURIOUS?? To be fair, I did get several hits, but as for the rest of the folks who received my mass e-mail or saw my Facebook announcements, I figured out that they did not read (or read the one time but didn't go back) because 1) they are too busy, 2) they don't "get the point" of blogs, or 3) they refuse to leave the safe confines of Facebook by clicking on a link.

Furthermore, another friend of mine advised that my posts were too "long and rambly." The blogs I frequent have long posts all the time (and have readers out the wazoo), but I have to admit I got more people to click over from FB when they were told the post was diminutive.

Which brings me to an important feature of Absorbing the Genius: the Syllabus. I'm going to provide a truncated version of the long posts for those who might want to be kept up to date, but don't have time for the long (and rambling) read. A digest. An abstract. The Cliff's Notes version, if you will.

And in the interest of keeping things concise, I'll save for the next post the stuff about the Purpose of This Blog, Its Possible Future, and the Reason for its Title. (If you would like to know why I'm 12tequilas, that's easy, click here.)

Coming up next: others' blogging habits, news, politics, and mayhem. In the meantime, relax to this, from when computer animation was new and cooool.