My bloggiversary came and went back in late June while I was attending to other things, and while I’d love to do a clever recap of the year, I’m afraid I just don’t have the energy right now. Instead, here are a few things I’ve learned this year as a baby blogger/activist right off the top of my head:
- Blogging is fun! And sometimes hard. But mostly fun!
- I love my readers. The ones I love, that is. You know who you are. Especially you.
- Some of the coolest people in the world are bloggers, and a bunch of them are now my friends. (An alarming number of them are Canadian for some reason. I blame Le Clown.)
- Trolls are really sick and sad and I wish I had a superpower to defend the world against them. But as long as they exist, they serve a purpose in the fight against them, so I’m learning to live with them the way I’ve learned to live with the fact that bacteria grows on my teeth while I sleep.
- When people care enough about an issue, when we join our voices and demand it, change happens.
- This blog is whatever it is, critics be damned, and I love it more than I ever thought possible. (See “I love my readers.”)
- I’m grateful to everyone who was a part of this first year (even some of the trolls, though I’m not grateful for the way they treated me and continue to treat women on the Internet).
Thanks for reading. Thanks for commenting. Thanks for reading even if you don’t ever comment. Thanks for commenting even if you don’t agree (this goes to those of you who do so politely and thoughtfully–everyone else can fuck off). It’s been a particularly rough year, and this blog has been a huge part of getting me through it and helping me to work out where I’m going from here.
Oh, and before I forget: Thanks. :)
…would not have been this blog.
This is the post where I talk about how this site got its name. It’s not a very long story, so I’ll also ramble a bit about other stuff, like the fact that I haven’t posted in over a week because I went on a road trip to California. I fully intended to write at least one post during that time, but it just was not in the cards. I’m not as young as I used to be, friends, and though traveling with a carload of women–all menstruating, by the way, except me (no uterus!)–is a blast in many ways, it takes a LOT out of me. I had as much energy as it took to do my share of the driving and then sit on the beach while everyone else frolicked in the surf like sea nymphs. (I’d have done some frolicking myself, despite my exhaustion, had we made it to So. Cal., but bad traffic cost us a day, and the water in central CA is COLD.) So, yeah. No writing while I was gone, but we did see seals, otters, pelicans, sea lions, and every type of road kill on your Roadkill Bingo card. And when I wasn’t driving, I rode shotgun and made the youngsters ride in the back. Age has its privileges.
Back to the title of this blog. It might have been very much like this one despite the name–although most certainly without all the sammiches. As I said before, I started a couple of other blogs, which are still out there, but this one had been simmering on the back burner of my mind for a while. I just didn’t know what to call it. I worked hard to come up with a good title. I scribbled on legal pads, made mind maps, brainstormed with my boyfriend, but nothing stuck. Then one day I decided to hell with it, I’m going to put something together and I’ll come up with the title later. When I found the perfect header graphic and put it in place, I thought I’d play with some fonts, so without even thinking about it I typed in a working title. You guessed it: Make Me a Sammich. I giggled at myself, and then cocked my head to one side, and then the other, like a dog when it’s trying to figure out a difficult math problem, and then I squinted at it, and kind of twisted my mouth in that way I do when I’m trying to decide whether I can really get away with something that just might be too clever for my own good. Then I giggled again and smirked and nodded and that was that.
In case this is your first time on the Internet, the phrase “make me a sammich” or the more formal “make me a sandwich” is what we on the tubes call a “meme.” Some memes are about kittens who say funny things and spell badly. Others are about Ryan Gosling. This one, the one that gave my blog its name, is about how women were basically created by God to make sandwiches for men.
I’m going to do a whole post on this meme, but you get the basic idea, right? So, my co-opting Mr. Rockwell’s Rosie eating her lunch after a long morning of kicking ass, along with the meme-phrase “make me a sammich,” is basically my way of telling people who come here what they’re in for in what I hope is a humorous-yet-irreverent way that pokes fun at stupidity while shaking a mustard-covered finger at misogyny. Or something. And maybe this blog would have been similar under a different name, but it seems to me that a sort of alchemy occurred when Rosie and the infamous sammich converged and Make Me a Sammich was born. It’s taken on a life of its own, and I’m just along for the ride now.
I call shotgun!
PS: Welcome to all the new folks! I’m still reeling from my 15 minutes Freshly Pressed on WordPress, and I never did get caught up on replying to comments. I was without Internet for TWO DAYS (or at least parts of two days) when it when up, and right after that I had to leave on this road trip. Crazy timing all around, but I’m going to make a concerted effort to get in there and respond to everyone because that’s just polite! In the meantime, thanks so much for reading and commenting and following.
I just learned that National Sandwich Month exists! Yay! (I mean, of course it does, because sammiches. Duh.) It’s like providence or something because when I found out it exists I just assumed I’d already missed it this year. And I did, in fact, miss National Grilled Cheese Sandwich Month which, according to Gone-ta-pott.com (Your Holiday Directory) is always in April. (Imagine anyone thinking otherwise.) July, however, is National Sandwich Generation Month, dedicated to people who provide care for both children and aged parents, which is nice, because that’s a lot of work. And National Sandwich Day isn’t until November! So, I didn’t miss those, which is great, but I haven’t told you the best thing of all which is that August is National Sandwich Month! Apparently, it’s always in August, but I never had reason to know that before now. I did, however, have reason to know about National Margarita Day and Cheese Weasel Day. I’ll let you make whatever judgements you will about that.
So, in honor of what we’ll refer to here at MMAS as National SAMMICH Month, I’ll be scouring the Internets for fascinating sandwich/sammich related stuff to tell you and show you. We’ll talk about the origins of the sandwich, and of the sammich, and of the title of this website. We’ll share our favorite sammich recipes! We’ll look at sandwich art (like the scary sammich monster above!)–because if you didn’t know sandwich art existed, you need to. It’s art. And sammiches. Duh.
Just ten days until August 1! Isn’t this exciting? I even added a countdown thingy just to the right, there. If you run across any sammich-related links I ought to know about ahead of time, please post them here. Ten days! I have work to do, people!