A Literati stuck in a digital Age

I'm new to the world of blogging. I've been a child of newspapers, books and magazines since before I can remember. I keep talking about how I aspire to be a journalist and when people ask me what kind of journalism I'd like to be in I immediately say Print. But print is a dying medium. The newspapers are going broke. People don't like the feel of the ink on their fingers or the trouble it takes to fold the New York Times over four times just to read one article, only to have to do it again to read another article on the next page five minutes later.

Frankly I've always found the idea of blogging self indulgent, like going to a psychiatrist. Though I do like talking to a shrink. It feels relieving unburdening all my problems onto someone else who probably won't tell me something I don't already know or who won't ask me a question I haven't heard before but having their Ph.Ds and MD diplomas in front of me makes me feel like my money is being justly spent by having someone "experienced" tell me what my problem is. And here I go again, ranting about what I feel. I just wonder who really cares about these opinions.

I said something very similiar to my roommate when I told her I was starting a blog and felt a little embarrased by it. She responded very quickly and rationally saying "It's no different from facebook or myspace where people are constantly posting how they feel one moment or what they did the next. What do you think all those status updates are for?" So here I am blogging with the best, or maybe just the rest, to flex my writing and cramp my fingers. My father said I should write down how I'm feeling for ten minuets a day, even if it's just to say that my stomach hurts and the dog took a big-- well you know-- outside. So in the spirit of self indulgance and narcism I've decide to write my thoughts down on the world wide web for, well, the whole world to read or not.