Steven Colbert wrote Maureen Dowd’s column and he claims Frank Rich’s too.
This is the anniversary of my mom’s death and I turn back into a person tomorrow. A person who has to focus on selling an apartment and other realities of life. Will be at blogs during the week.
Can America begin to right a grievous wrong and elect a great president? Draft Gore,

Blogfriday
I have romanticized very few celebrities in my life. That’s not to say I haven’t been caught up in celebritymania, or taken men in my life and made them into celebrities in my own mind. But true celebrities: Alan Bates, Eric Clapton and James Spader. Continue Reading »

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BlogFriday is a new feature. Check it out.

I haven’t really been commenting as this is a personal worst week for me. I will next week and have a more up post

When I began blogging three years ago people were looking for quality blogs to read. I got caught up in the whirlwind and in the game.

It’s different now. I can’t compete on the tech front as I’m totally spatially retarded nor did I think it was necessary to know more than basic HTML.

I lost my identity to blogging, yet it’s not the profession listed on my tax forms. I became consumed with keeping my “ranking” which did absolutely nothing for me but make me want to have a better one. Eventually I realized that I was playing a dangerous game.

I began my blog three years after 9/11. It did make my life and my world different. I live in Manhattan. My mother suddenly died a month later. Last night I was watching Concert for New York I remember none of it yet I know I watched it. It took place six days after my mother’s death.

While people were still in shock, I went into even deeper shock. Shock plus shock equals a huge electrical jolt and maybe breakdown of circuits. Only these circuits can’t be fixed with a switch of the circuit breaker or doing whatever a person does when they fix electricity.

There have been so many times these past years I have felt as if I lost my essence, and lost the person I was. I hope that I’m becoming a better person but there are times that I regress.

Blogging once helped. Now it hinders. I need my life to be conducted in the real world. I began to write a story, fiction, about an avatar, but had to stop. It felt as though I were writing about myself. No matter how real an avatar could be it can never be human.

I am human. And have all the foibles and more a person can have.

Six years, in total, later my life is very different. Blogging is a game that I once enjoyed. I enjoy getting to know bloggers, but after they have been my blogging friends for awhile I want to meet them.

I have been getting to know my real life friends all over again. We’re back to doing the when we’re 90 and not in great condition jokes.

I would love to take a vacation and not have my blog along. I no longer know what it feels like not to have a blog to keep up. I want to know what it’s like not to feel wedded to my blog.

I can’t see what’s good in blogging only the bad. I’m burnt from something that began as a minor hobby and turned into an avocation.

I would love to make money off my blog. Some people make much. Others claim to.
But most people delude themselves with pyramid schemes. I was brought up to spot a con and there’s nothing more in life I like than a good grifter. A good grifter would look at me and know in a second I can’t be conned, but appreciate the game.

Yet this virtual world is different. It took me a long time to sort out the many kinds of cons, of people who wanted, of people who befriended me as I can write. Writing is sometimes appreciated yet is the last skill needed for true blogging success. To be a successful blogger and I define that according to Technorati ranking one needs to sell something to people or to be snarky. There’s nothing I want to sell other than my writing and I have no desire to be snarky.

I feel that I have disappointed too many people by being merely human. If I were an avatar I would have wings and other magical powers but I have none.

Lately even writing has become a chore and writing is the thing I have always done for myself; to make me happy. My differences, the spatial retardation thing, are becoming more rather than less noticeable and I have to bring them into check.

I can’t and won’t nuke my blog. But I might not write in very often. Life calls.

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The really rich move into 6 million dollars apartments that then require further renovation. Or buy their kids almost 7 million dollar apartments. My apartment won’t bring near a million. The journey of___steps requires three real estate appraisals. People are already giving me conflicting advice. Actually they’re all telling me to do nothing. I’m the one who thinks I have to paint and much more. My many personas are deeply conflicted. We’re into this move as we know it’s time, but we even loved Broadway on a crowded Saturday afternoon. Not enough to stay….

I can’t imagine being so desperate as to be hysterical in an airport even if I’m late for a connecting plane. On the other hand I can imagine living in a rental and feeling that my world is going to be torn from under me because the house is for sale. It’s hard for any couple with three kids to find something to buy unless they’re in the category above. I can imagined feeling unhinged because I’m from a more civilized society than the one that walks on Broadway and frequents Fairway. it’s hard to stay sane in this city even if your roots run deep here. (Ms. Gotbaum was from a more civilized society. I’m deeply rooted here.)

Here is what having a rental budget of $8,000-$10,000 a month can get you in Manhattan.

Somebody is trying to convince me that if I had just bought in the real West Village I would have been ecstatic. But almost every single straight women I know, around my age, who lived there moved already. And were the people to tell us we didn’t suffer enough on 9/11. I would have paid less for a larger apartment that would be worth a ton now. I didn’t buy there so it’s moot and I don’t need to hear it. But nobody can be quiet on the subject of Manhattan real estate.

I might begin to seriously lose my mind, just from living, breathing, and dreaming real estate. It took me a year to find this apartment. It’s perfect for somebody who loves bathrooms–two windowed ones, one large marble one with double shower stall and separate bath; one white subway tile. Oh wait, this isn’t a real estate ad…..

This blog has vowed never to be trendy, bloggy, nichey, or in anyway blog politically correct. It is the journey of a solo blogger with a few imaginary friends. Well my laptop and desktop are interactive and always named Savannah. I’m one of the few people in the building without a dog so I got me an imaginary one, Toto. Cleaner and easier.

Before this blogger journeys to a new life in a new state, she’s going to sell the furniture, but not the glass collection and Mexican pottery, so she can make a new start. Many townhouses are sold already furnished. She will ask for a credit and have the wall to wall taken out even if it’s Berber.

She wants this journey to be a total change. But she couldn’t live with another person’s furniture. Her taste is too quirky and developed. It is hard giving up the wall unit Lucia designed, but she finally can look at it and say “I will always have pictures on my screen saver.”

When she misses the hood she can always watch Law & Order–any one. She can rent some Nora Ephron movies and Music & Lyrics and just look at the scenery. Panic in Needle Park Taxi Driver and many other movies like that.

This journey is a big one. It’s going from the known and loved though complained about to the unknown, she thinks she can love. She also pictures herself in a cabin on a lake in the Sierra Nevada’s and about 20 other places. She hopes to restrain from buying for awhile. She lives in a city that was filled with renters and is now filled with owners. She has that mentality.

This blogger only knew the Northeast Corridor, much of California, and South Florida, and thought it was America. She wants to make up for that lack. Having only lived in three boroughs–mostly Manhattan, all over the North Shore of Long Island and Cambridge, her perspective is a bit off.

This journey will change that. Sometimes complete change is the only answer. To be able to reinvent herself while being her, that’s what this journey is about.
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I guess the most amazing thing about New York is that you never know who you know who knows…. He named Talking Heads, is a great artist and much more. Know his son well, though I’m way closer in age to Jamie Daiglish. We do know some people in common through my ex.

This is a new feature that my friend Jonathan began. If you’re interested in participating check out the link
The journey is the reward is a Chinese proverb I don’t believe in. Then again I’m told that patience is a virtue and someday my ship will come in. That last one makes anything sound horrid.

I’m at a crossroads and realized today that all crossroads require a deal with the devil.

I have always felt selfish for wanting. Karma was schooled into me though not in that word.

Most weeks I’m filled with the wonder of life and the wonder of the journey but this crossroad has me wanting to meet the devil and offer something of myself for the one reward I truly want.

If the journey is the reward, how come it’s taking so long?

The journey through life is amazing. I’m not denying the wonders and the beauty. I’m not denying that some of the bumps bring much excitement and some of the forks bring adventure.

But the crossroads, the true crossroads…that’s a place I have feared standing still at.

I still dare dream and maybe when I linger at the crossroads longer….

Stumble it!