So since my last writing, I have lost 48 pounds thanks to a new lease on life catalyzed by daily spinach smoothies and Topomax. I've also moved into a "higher rent" villa in a better area of town and I have a gym.
Arguably, life is better if not optimal.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Friday, August 12, 2011
welcome to blogging
I've always been a writer. Ever since I won the Young Author's Contest in sixth grade for a rousing selection of vignettes about Native Americans, which I cleverly named Ten Little Indian Tales. Cliches are big in sixth grade.
I used to think of blogging as an egocentric and narcissistic activity. As in, who the hell is important enough that random strangers would invest in reading about the minutiae of his or her life? Then I read a blog for one of my sorority sisters and it was the first real snippet of life since our days at Florida State. It was the first time anyone had gotten past the superficial facade on Facebook of being incessantly happy and successful, and told it like it was. She is divorced. She is using Plenty of Fish (to no avail). She lost her house and a series of other material things since she has begun to muddle her way through, as she puts it, "singlemomdom."
This is a girl who decided to cash in her 401K for a set of fake boobs after her divorce. They are spectacular.
Also, have you ever noticed the phenomenon of "stream of consciousness" when one starts enjoying a fine bottle of wine? Tonight, it's Cimmaron by Vigilance, which is something I've never enjoyed until tonight (after possibly the worst work day I've experienced yet). I've found that when you start to drink, around the second or third glass of wine, you start to have all these thoughts about what you plan to say, when you next get the chance. Usually, this occurs when you've walked into the bathroom to pee and "break the seal." And you're usually in a social setting. At least for me, that's always been the case. I suddenly feel that if the world doesn't hear every fleeting thought that runs through my intoxicated brain, between the moment I lock the door and the moment I flush, no one's world can carry on.
What I've discovered this evening, thanks to blogspot.com, is that if you are drinking alone, blogging is the perfect way to express yourself. This is especially true if you're still "with it enough" that talking drunkenly to your dogs is pathetic.
Incidentally, my golden retriever is a very good listener.
And now, after all the ramblings, I can't even recall what it was that was so brilliant when I was pouring this glass... My grandmother used to say, when you forgot what you were going to say, "It must have been a lie."
Anyway, welcome to blogging for me.
I used to think of blogging as an egocentric and narcissistic activity. As in, who the hell is important enough that random strangers would invest in reading about the minutiae of his or her life? Then I read a blog for one of my sorority sisters and it was the first real snippet of life since our days at Florida State. It was the first time anyone had gotten past the superficial facade on Facebook of being incessantly happy and successful, and told it like it was. She is divorced. She is using Plenty of Fish (to no avail). She lost her house and a series of other material things since she has begun to muddle her way through, as she puts it, "singlemomdom."
This is a girl who decided to cash in her 401K for a set of fake boobs after her divorce. They are spectacular.
Also, have you ever noticed the phenomenon of "stream of consciousness" when one starts enjoying a fine bottle of wine? Tonight, it's Cimmaron by Vigilance, which is something I've never enjoyed until tonight (after possibly the worst work day I've experienced yet). I've found that when you start to drink, around the second or third glass of wine, you start to have all these thoughts about what you plan to say, when you next get the chance. Usually, this occurs when you've walked into the bathroom to pee and "break the seal." And you're usually in a social setting. At least for me, that's always been the case. I suddenly feel that if the world doesn't hear every fleeting thought that runs through my intoxicated brain, between the moment I lock the door and the moment I flush, no one's world can carry on.
What I've discovered this evening, thanks to blogspot.com, is that if you are drinking alone, blogging is the perfect way to express yourself. This is especially true if you're still "with it enough" that talking drunkenly to your dogs is pathetic.
Incidentally, my golden retriever is a very good listener.
And now, after all the ramblings, I can't even recall what it was that was so brilliant when I was pouring this glass... My grandmother used to say, when you forgot what you were going to say, "It must have been a lie."
Anyway, welcome to blogging for me.
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