So my involvement with Twitter has forced me to confront my age-old enemy: Brevity. Those 140 characters are a total buzz kill when you’re suddenly struck with the urge to pour out your soul on the topic of seafood bisque, as I often am. (I like mine chunky. Why must chefs blend it to a pulp so that I’m forced to drink my shrimp? Is that someone’s idea of cuisine? Because from where I sit, it’s just a glorified, aquatic-life-based protein shake.)

I’m not the biggest fan of conciseness. It does nothing for me. Eclecticism? Cool. Specificity? Awesome. Give me any topic, any story, but by all means, do not skimp me on the details. And for the love of Office Suite, don’t ask me to keep it short either.

You may not know me, oh, but you know someone just like me. The kind of person who tells a story that starts in one time zone and ends up just like that time my Grandma took me to see a taping of Wheel of Fortune, only Vanna White didn’t look anything like I thought she’d look up close, you know?

But I can’t function that way anymore… I start to write a blog entry that looks like a FAFSA application. And for what?! I can’t even tell by the end how the beginning got there. And it keeps me from saying all the things I’ve got on my mind. WHO OTHERWISE WILL SOUND THE ALARM ABOUT SEAFOOD BISQUE??

So I’m going to limit myself. I have to. For the sake of sanity, Bobby Pens is becoming a macro-blog. 200 words or less, per entry. For the next 5 posts (it’s trial run). Maybe 250 words if the topic moves me. Hey, you don’t get to make the rules! And you don’t need to count the words in this entry, either. Nope… no need.