You Never Can Tell with (the) Bees (blog)
Without delving into the boring details, I’ve been permanently locked out of my old Blogger account. (I’m not the only one.) And so, when Blogger threw me lemons, I recreated the entire “You Never Can Tell with Bees” blog on WordPress — and I did it using nothing but freshly squeezed lemon juice (and text).
You can see the new and improved Bees blog here: www.reinmanblog.wordpress.com. And by “improved” I mean “noticeably crappier.” For instance, some of the formatting was lost in translation, and I haven’t yet moved the comments over. But the original posts are more or less intact, in all their bee-hating, wiki-bashing, movie-self-promoting, Wii-chasing, yourethemannowdogging glory.
A few scattered thoughts:
1. I had forgotten how bee-centric the first few months of the blog were. I mean, I wrote about bees, like, a lot. That must have been back when I cared about things like “theme” and “focus” and “quality writing.”
2. I complained a lot about crappy television in 2004. And looking back, it makes sense — 2004 was a pretty bleak year. Reality TV was beginning to fully hit its stride (bad), The Simpsons was starting to stink (bad), and that was about it. If only I had known a television renaissance (Lost, The Office, 30 Rock, Friday Night Lights, Battlestar Galactica, Mad Men, Parks and Rec, Community, Modern Family) was just a year or two away. (And yes, it was my own fault for not catching on to Arrested Development sooner.)
3. Going through the old blog, post-by-post, was kind of like going through photo albums with the Jilb and the Princess. It’s weird realizing how much of my life I’ve already forgotten. For example, the Jilb and I got engaged smack dab in the middle of the Starting Tomorrow shoot. Who knew?
4. As the night wore on, and as I continued tediously copying and pasting post after post, I began getting mad at my old self. “Stop posting so much!” I yelled at my old self. That was right around May 2006. Mercifully, my old self listened.
5. My old blog was so self-referential it was nauseating. Thank goodness I made it through that phrase.
– Reinman
