I keep a blog, called That Blog, on Blogsome which is a free host for WordPress. I have my site, which has become a fixer upper, though I had so many great plans and I was even keeping up with it all for a few months. Then I decided to learn CSS and change all my pages. Well, the front page is done... that's about it so far.

I'm dating John, sort of. We began emailing after meeting through Toronto Craigslist personals. But we have not met yet. Things have gotten in the way. He is moving, I am going the entrepreneur route, he is job hunting, I am thinking about taking a web design course since the entrepreneur route is hard on the bank account, etc. I really like this guy though so I hope it works out. That would be a first. But, isn't that the point? If you find a good one you don't keep looking.

I have temporarily (I think) deleted the blog which was going to be the zine for writers and publishers. I got fed up with just moderating spam and not doing anything else with it cause I’m just too busy. Plus, the damned thing was not accepting any of my logins, for some weird reason. So I punished it with death. Who says I’m sweet and nice all the time.. ;)

I have to rethink my business proposal. I heard back from Ruby today. I really don’t know what to do. I thought about it here for awhile. Then I drove out and bought some SkinnyCow to whimper into quietly while I thought some more. Then I washed the dishes and came upstairs back to the computer. I thought and cried and felt totally hopeless. How can I figure out how I fit in when I have NEVER in my life ever fit in? That was in essence what Ruby said. She’s right too, I know it.

I picked web design cause it was an easy label. Something I could do, where there were fairly set rules and expectations. I could do it. I wasn’t honestly wild about it. I do love the design and the possibilities but it’s something I would rather do for fun than on a schedule or to some other person’s needs/ wants/ plans. I’m not a good rule follower.

I don’t know where that leaves me. Ruby didn’t want to be discouraging and I told her (and John) that I’m not discouraged but I am. Tonight at least. I don’t know where I fit in. Sure I have some interesting skills and yes I under value everything myself. That doesn’t mean I’m going to change over night and become super woman, able to leap tall office furniture and eat bullets, while spinning china plates on top of my head.

So I’m here, thinking.

I know what I really want to do. I just don’t see how to make it practical or profitable for a business venture/ plan. I want to write that Internet zine. I want to talk about what I know about the Internet, web publishing, search engines, site navigation, blogging, ASCII art, and all of the rest rolled up into one big pile of duct tape. How do I make that a business? I don’t see it. I know there are a lot of people babbling about money making blogs but they do it by spamming and having affiliate links. I don’t want to spread the spam, promote the garbage or create more of it myself especially.

Somehow I have to find a niche where people need me, must have whatever it is I have to offer. I need to believe in myself too but lets not get carried away, I only have a week at the very most to revamp the proposal.

I was looking at the 9rules network tonight. It’s funny how many people get in with something like that and then disappear. No commitment to sticking around I guess. I have been with BackWash since 2001, even though I took a year off and just came back. That is still 3 plus years of posting each week, seldom missing a week at any time during those years.

Where do I fit in? Don’t answer that. I’m just talking to myself. I don’t expect an answer from god or anyone else. :)

Slackers, Monsters and Anal Clones

I like my screen resolution but apparently it’s bigger than most or the standard at least. So everything in my blog appears great to me but not so great to those working in standard mode. I will make template changes to adjust for that. Sometime this week maybe.

Other news… well not a lot really. I miss John even though we haven’t managed to meet yet. I do the girl thing and think about the future, the ring, the life together. I skip the whole wedding and dating part. That’s the boring stuff. Even while I’m spinning my little daydreams I know how stupid it really is to think about any of it. For all I know he will see me and run screaming in the other direction. I am not quite Miss World. I know I’m not unattractive, but at times the flaws seem to hang over the good parts like a starving monster with very sharp, pointy (and dirty and crooked) teeth. I can feel a drop of monster slobber run down my back.

I should be writing today. Instead I am poking around not accomplishing a lot. I really wish I could be one of those disciplined, organized, ever so dutiful, perfect, normal, battery operated people. Sometimes. If I had a switch I could turn on and off that would be just great. Although, I have a feeling the anal.. I mean worker bee version of me might get the idea of breaking the switch so she could keep full control all the time. What a bitch. Inside, where the real me would be, I’d be telling her she’s no fun, has no creative spark and really what does any of her work matter. Who cares if the bed gets made every day, really? Are you going to preserve it, put plastic over it to keep it precisely perfect forever. Where will you sleep anal clone woman?

Anyway, none of that is really happening. I am still me, the slacker with too many great ideas.

I am (or give the impression of being) on the romantic and sentimental side. Maybe I am but, people tend to give me figurines, trinkets and such which they think I will like. I usually don’t like them and wish I didn’t have to find space for them, move them around with me (I move a lot) and feel obligated towards them. When someone gets you something like that it is something they thought was to be treasured and likely would have liked themselves. So you can’t just easily get rid of it. I have a lot of these little breakable treasures and as lovely as they are I wish I did not have them.

What I really would like are practical things. Or something impractical like a paid weekend at a fancy hotel. I could throw together some stuff and spend the weekend downtown where ever, that would be great. Or software, books, gift certificates for bookstores are good too. But, I do understand that people want to find a special gift, something that is to be treasured. Most people think I will treasure something delicate. I would prefer something that won’t break.

Although I make an exception for those bone china posy bowls. I have been collecting those since I got one from my Aunt who is now deceased. I would love to get one of those for Valentines day. Not looking too likely at this point though. Too many things are getting in the way of what could have been my first ever real Valentines Day. How annoying!

Well here we are, another Saturday morning.

Saturday morning was a lot more exciting when I was a kid. There were cartoons and my Mom would make a big breakfast. Whatever she felt like whipping up: pancakes, bacon and eggs, fruit salad, omelettes, sausages, French toast, red river cereal, scrambled eggs, bagels, cinnamon buns and just about anything you can imagine as breakfast food. Sometimes something quite fancy and sometimes just a bowl of anonymous flakes in milk. I appreciate it much more now. All those breakfasts in our sunny kitchen on Rouge Hills Drive, West Hill, Ontario. That was a long time ago.

I still really like going out for breakfast, when someone else does the cooking and the cleaning up. Living alone I don't get inspired to whip up anything for breakfast. I would make pancakes and bacon and eggs and French toast and such when I was married. Until things go not so nice. Then I didn't bother, didn't even bother to get up to be with him, let alone cook for him. I ate ice cream when I got up. Not a great plan I have to warn you.

Anyway, that's what Saturday morning makes me think of. All those mornings in our cosy house and having breakfast together at the table. Being called away from the TV, which was not that interesting anyway. Mom liked to have conversation so we always blabbed about something or other. Sometimes she had a plan for the day or the weekend. She was a firm believer in unplanned plans though. We might go to the flea market in Pickering but end up on a road trip to Niagara Falls instead. There were weekend visits to the Grandparents in Woodstock. Two hours was just borderline distance with four kids in a car. We had a big van for awhile, that gave each of us our own bench. It was pretty cool to stretch out or find some other way to take up all your available space. I had books and a little sister. I could have suggested she go somewhere else but I didn't mind. Sometimes I had my other sister, taking refuge from my brother. They always competed, over everything. But he was closer to my age and had advantages. That didn't stop her from trying to win. She was "Queen of Stubborn", relentless to the point of craziness.

So those were Saturday mornings ages ago. Now I'm just being lazy. I should/ could be working on something practical and necessary and important. Maybe some part of my brain is waiting for breakfast, to come to the table and chat about what we might do today. Too bad it's noon now. If I make a fresh coffee maybe I can fool myself into self discipline.

Or I could get dressed. Wearing your pajamas till after noon on a Saturday morning is not a sign of a productive day. But, it was fun when we were kids. I don't want to go back, not at all. It's nice to have memories but you have to keep making new ones to go with the part of your life you're living in now.

You would be surprised how many times I have heard that in reference to myself.

It seems that things which I consider doing and then think, "why not?" Make other people cringe in horror and give me the evil eye and back away, quickly even.

Sometimes it makes me feel I must be a mutant freak. But, all the reasons they come up with for not doing whatever it was just never occured to me. Besides, most of them seem like things I could cope with, if they came up.

Did anyone else get on Noah's Ark under the category of mutant freak? Raise your cloven hooves please.