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Apr
29

There was a time when I would have rushed to my blog to say that Bone is fine. But as he’s one of the few people who reads this blog these days…..I’m well read on PPsychology Today so don’t cry for me…

Now I’m on vacation–had visitors, for Intersession, of the college student kind. Little Luce who isn’t so little anymore and her incredibly wonderful boyfriend. They give me faith….

So does Bone coming through this unscathed. I can’t believe how scared I was.

A friend of a lifetime went into the hospital last week with Multiple Myeloma. Then Phoebe Snow died who I don’t even know but….Then the tornadoes.

I first became close, to Bone, during Katrina when I noticed how genuinely kind and good he was to people who were directly affected. One woman had a son in Iraq and a son missing for a time in Bayou Country. I thought he was worth becoming friends with and never regretted that. Need him around to blog about life in Boneville with the Bonefamily&friends–he’ll have a celeb abbrev for that, I know.

We’ve always joked about his father’s insistence on getting into cars and driving around during tornadoes. I was never going to laugh at anything tornado related again however I heard from Bone last night when he got sporadic cell reception and now he has electricity. His family and weather–OK his father is worse, than me on keeping on top of weather, if that’s possible. Though he doesn’t get moldy, soggy, languid and sometimes depressed in spring rain–but come alive in summer humidity as I do,

This weather spate–I don’t know; it’s crazy, uncontrollable and scary.

But for now I’m just glad the Bone family is alright.
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Places to help for Alabama Please in the name of one of the least prejudiced people I know, Bone, we’re all purple today and don’t say you don’t want to help a racist. Then they’ll look at color, political party, home ownership–does the person have insurance and finally relgion. We need none of that now!!!!

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Mar
24

Sometimes this world hurts.  And by this world I mean the world of social media where people proclaim their expertise and want to teach you their tricks every damn day.  For a price of course.  They usually don’t even have a Google Page Rank, even a bad one like mine is currently or a proven track record but they’re experts just the same.  I want their chutzpah but my overblown sense of morals prohibits me from charging for something I’m not truly an expert in.

I have an overblown moral and ethical value portion of my brain but I don’t believe in God so my values are false to a lot of people–I’m talking both blogging (remember Pastor Craig on BIO?) and real world, here. I keep expecting Kevin Bacon to sweep into town….Oh we still do allow dancing though some of the clubs have been closed for more Godly ventures such as diners.  Southern diners complete with fat as a food group.  Our just chicken restaurant–don’t get me started on how unhealthy it is.

Back to the Internet.  Where I wasn’t supposed to be allowed to have opinions because some way sick radical rightists decreed so.  And the people I political blogged with would have rather seen blog than back me so it was up to my friends who I thank profusely and will always care about.

It’s hard for me to read blogs not by long time blogging friends as I read about being raped or getting nasty comments and people will comment about the blogger’s courage and how nobody talked about such things before.

Hello, here I am. Bet you weren’t told you kill little children because you’re pro-choice, etc, etc.  There was a time when I had to have Bone and The Wombat google me because it was too scary to look myself.

I did hate it and can’t help but want it validated that everything people talk about now as fresh and noteworthy is somewhere in the abyss called Courting.  I know how sick it sounds.  Credit for having blogs set up to diss me; blog posts changed to make me look like an idiot; comments that made me cringe.

The day I realized you weren’t going to go to bloggers hell for deleting was a wonderful one.

But I guess four-six years ago is too long in the new world of social media where all that matters is how many tweets you get.

I’m jaded.  I understand that.  I was so psyched about Psychology Today and the day after I was offered it Congresswoman Giffords was shot and that took the wind out of my sails.  I can’t help feeling nor would I want to change that about me.  But I wish I could have had one week no one month of pure enjoyment.  It’s that damn overblown sense of conscience and caring.

Summer’s coming and I’m getting my house ready.  But something inside me feels so sad as if I had a chance and blew it.  I’m good at not seeing what’s in front of me.  Maybe what’s in front is pure joy.  I hope.  I know I deserve it.  And it’s not going to cost anybody $499 plus materials and shipping & handling

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Feb
18

A post I wrote for Studio 30 Plus.  I accidentally posted it here yesterday and Google cached it.  Oh the wonders of the Internet!

Feb
04

I’ve been blogging since we blogged uphill both ways.*  Really.  I barely knew what a blog was.  For the first four months I did it strictly for myself.  Then I found a blogging association most of us love to leave out of our blogging resumes.  The next  morning I found myself in an alternate universe I sometimes think is my real life.  People bookmarked me.  OK I got that.  But the link exchange–uh, what’s a link?

I learned this new world, though the learning curve was long and high,  and began to meet people through emails.  Gmail didn’t have IM then and I swear AOL chat would crash my computer.

Anyways as the Wombat says, I discovered amazing uh esoteric people.  Many who are much younger than I am.  Like in: I first knew them when they were in their late teens.  Having young exceptionally bright friends forces me to think and challenge my views on some subjects.  They remind me of the best of me–those years when everything was new, almost always fun except if it was horrific.  And while the world was in horrible shape I knew I was destined for a wonderful future.  And it happened!

The Wombat is an amazing person and friend.  He has opinions (learned and scholarly) on almost everything,  appreciates James Spader like nobody but me, while being straight.  Has one of those great storybook Boston families that actually has camping reunions.  And so much more.  He’s an incredible helpful, thoughtful friend.

His current post, mostly on Egypt has an unusual, different and really almost commonsense take.  He talks about things other people don’t.

Uh government workers have joined the protesters I so hope this is a revolution for good and the betterment of the Egyptian people.

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Now I blog for Psychology Today and my latest post was called an essential read, by Psychology Today.  Not that I’m bragging or anything.  Yeah me!!!!! (I never say things like this and lately….)

I’ll take essential read anyway I can!!!!!!!

*Taken from a saying on a tee shirt.  Can’t upload the image and not sure who to credit to.  But looking!
This is my most commented on post.  I stopped the comments as a little thing called Katrina was happening and I thought that was more important than a debate on Intelligent Design.  But unfortunately the post is more relevant today than ever.

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Oct
13

Thanks Thom for the words

The following isn’t my book but the side affects of it.  Or how my hair is turning gray at record rates because this book and life leaves me emotionally drained.  And when I try to get in touch with NLD groups and/or coaches nobody gets back to me or tells me I’m too old.  Funny but I thought this was supposed to be the prime of life. I didn’t mean for this post to be so all around the world with Pia.  I’m not a bad person or a bad writer and yet I’m back to feeling everybody else deserves more than I do–no matter what I say later in this post. it’s the outcome of years of trying too much yet being told I wasn’t trying at all and if I just did….I tried making this private as I didn’t want to trash it but don’t want to subject people to feeling they have to comment

I’m so tired.  Lord am I tired of trying.  I fear that my old age is going to come earlier than it should so I do everything I can to stave it off.  However how do I know that dementia or Parkinson’s or something akin to either one won’t happen?  I could appear demented at eighteen–hence the title Space Chick with the Electric Hair.

You make a mistake.  You get angry sometimes for a second then shrug it off.  I make a mistake.  I get angry then angrier.  How do I know it won’t happen again?  Sometimes it happens for the 20th million time or so it feels.  I can’t absolve myself of guilt, of fear, of so many ordinary things.  I can’t let go of stupid mistakes that anybody can and does make.

“Relax,” you say: “picture yourself relaxing on a beach…..”  Idiot!  I live at the beach and my problems aren’t in my head–they’re neurological.* Thanks Lillian, Bill for that sorta analogy.  Two more adults with non verbal learning disorder (NLD). *Actual brain malfunctions rather than emotional I should clarify.

No matter how much I relax I have to live in the real world and the real world isn’t relaxing.  I have to be on constant guard that my gait is good.  That I don’t look spacey.  That I do everything correctly.  That I don’t take too much time counting change or scanning in items in the store.  Little everyday things aren’t little to me.

Anxiety is a killer and I have high blood pressure to prove that.  Perfect blood tests.  No physical reason the doctors say.  But blood pressure that was off the roof because I wanted to go off Klonopin and no doctor would help me–I no longer have great health insurance.  Pre-existing conditions. ANXIETY.  The insurance company claimed I was lying about never being hospitalized.  But I haven’t been.  Yet I can’t prove a negative.  ANXIETY  can cover so much–high blood pressure, then anything to do with the heart or a stroke or I can go on and on.

I’m under insured (but pay double in premiums each month just to help me lose money, and because I’m too scared not to be insured ) doctors no longer find me “remarkable,” “hilarious in a good way,” or “wonderful.”  But a frigging charity case they probably hiss at when I leave.

Me, a charity case!  I can’t be.  I’m not the one that should be ridiculed.  We should ridicule a system that won’t stop pre-existing conditions for adults until 2014.  Of course health care might be overturned and then my premiums that cover so little could go up to the sky and I will be totally uninsured.  And it’s not fair for anybody including me who has paid into the system forever.

I never thought about these things when I was young.  Youth seemed endless.  True I could never absolve myself of the guilt I constantly felt.  Mea culpa, mea culpa!!!!!  I delighted it seemed in taking blame.  Used to make “funny” remarks about it.  “I would apologize to a street lamp.” OK I have!  I used to tell people I began World War Two. It seemed funny at the time considering I wasn’t born then.

I used humor, some sort of ability to make people like me and my personality as a cover.  I came of age in the late 60′s–70′s.  It was OK to be different.  It was more than OK; it was great.  I look back at the life I led in disbelief.  I can’t believe I was not only comfortable working in a huge room with 240 people but one of the stars.  I can’t believe I not only went to huge parties but had them twice a year.

I watch Hoarders and think “this could be me.”  For I don’t have an organizational bone in my body.  And I was messy.  Very messy.  I went through an entire relationship without once letting him into my apartment.  True he was my boss and I didn’t really like him.  True we went out to dinner one night and I got trashed.  Didn’t mean to but….Ended up in his bed and woke up from my black out screaming at him.  I ran from his apartment scared that I would run into somebody I knew for it felt like half my world lived in that building in the late 70′s–early 80′s.  People who played important parts in my life lived in The Atrium–which I later called the Melrose Place of the Village because it felt so interconnected and scandalous .  Though I have to say I was the scandal a third of the time.

Most of the time my apartment was half-decent. I love having company, and don’t buy because it fulfill needs.  I bought because I had no place to do laundry.  I bought because I loved the way I looked in clothes and lived near many interesting stores.

I loved the use of candles instead of lights so people couldn’t see too closely.  My apartment was built in the 20′s and hadn’t been renovated since then.  When I moved in the fridge was one step up from an ice box.  I bought a new one.  But the apartment had no amenities, was hard to clean for anybody, and not walking distance from a Laundromat. What it had was pre-war charm (without light), 12 and a half foot ceilings, a huge archway, and a renter who would get everybody drunk or stoned when they walked in–lighten up it was the 70′s and uh 80′s.  I also cooked in those days and nobody turned down my food.  Most of the time I went out.  Most of all it had location–just off Fifth Avenue in the East 60′s.   I loved that apartment and would probably have waited to be bought out if there hadn’t been five floods in three weeks that destroyed it–and building management wouldn’t do a thing.  I of course thought the aftermath of the floods somehow my fault and didn’t press too hard for them to fix everything.  Idiot!!!!!

I taught myself organizational skills.  It didn’t come easy and I let a dresser draw and part of a closet be disorganized.  Places where I can just throw things to later put them in order.  But my kitchen, bathrooms, living room, and guest room are all immaculate.  Even my study is always “company ready.”  Honestly I have myself convinced that the Horry County police are going to come in at any moment.  I know how irrational that is.  But here people just stop over and almost demand entree.

I bought my apartment on Riverside Drive because I could see its potential for organization.  It was the first time in my life I organized an apartment or anything rather than have it control me.  I do consider an every two week cleaning woman one of life’s necessities for me.  In the city Zobedia understood me and was incredible.  Here my cleaning woman does the minimum but I pay her much less and love her politics and wit–not too many white women voted for Obama in my small beach city.

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A friend asked in a post “who reads blogs anymore?”  It feels, to me, that there are hundreds of blogging associations most of which think you should put your personal blog to bed and blog solely for them. Never!

At the same time I like facebook for socializing and yes linking my posts. Twitter scares me as it entails looking for subjects and more.  Honestly I just want to write.  I don’t want to do all the periphery stuff but I will if it means an old fashioned book contract.  I know I’m not organized enough to self-publish.  So why do I think I’m organized enough to be published?  I waver on that one but believe that not enough is known about a disability that has affected every aspect of my life.  As I said I don’t know if it will affect my mind–in different and worse ways than it has already.  Though it can be argued that people with NLD have poor judgment, I have always been known for basically having excellent judgment and I’m not going to argue with a lifetime of assessments. More than anything I fear my judgment going.

I read yesterday that people with NLD can’t focus on books and get fidgety when read to.  They were talking about kids.  Knock me over with a spoon and some codeine.  I loved being read to and taught myself to read before entering Kindergarten.  My older by a year boy cousin couldn’t believe I could read so fast so he  tested me with a boy book he knew I had never read.  Yes I really could read both fast and with perfect comprehension.  I’m sorry if this doesn’t jive with some for profit learning center for kids and people with dementia but uh….

I’m not being vain when I say there are few adults who admit to having NLD and fewer that can write like I can.  I really want to write edgy fiction.  But I feel compelled to get my story out there.  And honestly when people without NLD write about it they generalize or get subtle things wrong.  When parents write they write from their perspective.  Which is OK.  But I am a writer.  I have a compelling story.  I hate pitching it.  I hate having to sell myself on FB, Twitter etc.  It feels like much clutter being added to my day.

I realize we live in the era of shameless self-promotion.  I’m good at having a bold facade–something I always was in real life too.  Distracts from the mess inside and I was vain.  It ends there.  I stopped reading blogs looking for “followers” on networked blogs–and if you said you were a follower of mine rather than a reader I would hand you the Kool Aide. Anyway, people promote blogs–that they sound proud of and have nothing to be proud of, IMHO.

I do yet I have so much trouble being a part of this whole new world—and I was here long before many or most bloggers.  Not just in the regular world but in the blogging world.  I feel as if I missed my chance.  I missed it because I was too overwhelmed.  Now I’m ready yet is the world still ready for me?  I feel weird posting this.  It’s as if I can’t absolve myself of sins real and imagined.  I hiss at myself and both ridicule me and hold myself up to ridicule.  But I’m as worthy as any mother of any child with Asperger’s (the disorder de jour) or person with bipolar disorder–another disorder that gets much play in the blogosphere probably because it’s easy to understand!  I want to make NLD easy to understand and I almost promise to keep the posts shorter as I was until last week.  I’m tired of having to explain NLD.  I’m tired of writing about it but being obsessive….

I’m sorry well maybe a little for the length of this. I’m going away tomorrow for a long weekend and have much to do so if you comment on this I won’t be around until Tuesday at the earliest

Tomorrow is the ninth anniversary of my Mom’s death.  Sunday would have been her birthday.  It would have been nice to celebrate on 10/10/10.  This is my Mom in her later years.

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Sep
22

About five years ago or more, that is a century or two ago, in blogging years, I met Shayna, former blogger of My Music Highway, who is now  at Ordinary Miracle

Blogging was different then.  It was more fun, at least for me.  We were making it up as we went along.  No rules meant no structure that had to be followed. There were a large group of us, each different in style and subject, who commented and encouraged one another.  There were times it felt revolutionary.  Other times like college or first jobs right after.

I don’t remember exactly how I met Shayna but I remember she introduced me to worlds I hadn’t known before–soldiers who were actually in Iraq, for one.

What it was like to grow up musical in Nashville.  I always did love the worlds of the South.

You could call Shayna a mommy blogger as she had one baby son then and later had another. You can’t help but love Shayna’s boys.  Her son Will turned six the same day my niece turned sixteen, 9/19. and both have grown up a bit too fast.  Shayna involves you in her family but in the sweetest and most protective of ways.

But to call Shayna a mommy blogger would be to do a disservice to an incredible person who can’t be categorized.

She’s compassionate, bright, beautiful, a musical talent and a wonderful writer who puts you in the moment of her stories.

I had a blogging accident today and contacted Shayna and ended up with the template of my dreams.

Welcome to the new and way improved, Courting Destiny.

We thank you Shayna and hope you’re coming back to the blogging world but so understand if life keeps you too busy.

And we love you :)

There’s a “real” 3WW post beneath this

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Aug
05

If I were a better blogger I would be going to Blogher which is taking place in New York in August (not on my birthday weekends) so I truly have no excuse not to go other than fear of not being known, and a general hatred of large gatherings in which I don’t have a central role. (Hey at least I’m honest.)
If I were a better blogger I would have a reader and comment on at least 100 blogs a week.
If I were a better blogger I would have a brand that I was known for so people wouldn’t be confused when they read my blog about what I write about–anything and everything.
And if I were a better blogger my blog could easily translate into one book; not 20 on vastly different subjects.
If I were a better blogger I would have a kid or three so I could write cute knowing stories and be offered products to place other than horrible books that I’m expected to write glowing reviews of–I don’t.
If I were a better blogger I would focus on making as many Facebook and Twitter friends as possible rather than just having fun on Facebook.
If I were a better blogger I would be 20 years younger than I am or face being “old” and write for Eons (I’m not into nostalgia in the traditional sense so this doesn’t work.)
If I were a better blogger I would know HTML well and figure out what’s wrong with my blog so that it shows on readers and Networked blogs. (Honestly because of my disability I don’t even try.)
If I were a better blogger I would use my disability for fame and fortune. Though when you have NLD it’s easy to be bright and verbal and almost impossible to figure out a game plan.
If I were a better blogger I would have a game plan despite my inability to figure one out.
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When I began blogging six years ago this month nobody I knew had heard of blogs. They patronized me for caring. Then my blog became read and got publicity. Only I found my life blog-centric which wasn’t helping me get published or make money. Now that blogs are the way to godliness and a better more wonderful life I have about as much desire to keep my blog up as I have to become Mother Teresa.
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I keep my blog as I still believe I’m talented. I might be lacking in self-esteem but I know how to tell a story. I don’t feel comfortable in this world of shameless self promotion (not that it’s called that anymore) but I’m not sure I feel totally comfortable in the world at large.
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The only thing that I’m bitter about is not knowing I had NLD at least ten years ago. I could have planned my life better while I was still comparatively young. Blogging would have come after writing, not before it.
However I didn’t. Now that I have my house and life somewhat together I can finish what I began so long ago. I always begin years in September–will always be on a school year calender even if most begin in August now.

This is my year and welcome to it.

For the months of August and September I’m putting in old posts. If you have any favorites….Might do this through the end of the real year. That way I can clean my blog and focus on things more important to me while letting people see what I have done

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Jan
18

I have met the most wonderful bloggers over the past five years five months.  Though I complain about the comments that tired me of this, I have been the recipient of more incredible comments than any person has a right to receive.  I thank you all.

I  can’t do this anymore.  I write because I love to write but writing is the least of blogging.  I can’t focus on writing for publication when as a blogger I’m supposed to find “followers,” a word I hate as it sounds as if the follower should be holding my dress up.  I couldn’t care less about my Alexa ranking.  I lost my Google page rank “5″ then got it back then lost it.  Too confusing.   I could never understand Google Analytics and leave that to the people who want to monetize their blogs.

According to Technorati, I have an authority of “1.”  That would be  an audience of one–me I think and is impossible but…I only looked because a friend looked at his.  He still has a Technorati ranking.

I enjoy commenting on Facebook and a few blogs.  I can’t spend hours a day reading and commenting on blogs.  3WW a word exercise I love took me over twelve hours, to both read other blogs and comment on them,  and I wrote my post in 20 minutes.  There’s no enjoyment or payback in that. (I love some of the blogs but the time spent….)  If I were to do three or four word exercises it would take 36-48 hours out of my week.  That’s a lot of writing I can be doing.

Something else–there are so many blogging groups and associations my head spins just thinking about them.  Blogging has become too big for me.  Should I spend money going to blogging conferences?

I can’t blog for Blog Critics, Technorati, to name a few and as I keep mentioning also write for real publication.  And real publication, to me, has to mean something that pays actual money and not pennies.

People in other professions don’t give everything away.  I know! I know!  Anybody can write.  And that’s true now.  Anybody who has access to a computer can put words to screen.  But do you want to read them all?

I will be keeping Courting going and weeding out “bad” posts.  So people who care about things like Technorati don’t have to worry about losing my pitiful–I don’t even know what to call it.

I realize that I’m going against the grain and that I’m probably committing blogging hari kari.  But anybody who knows me knows I’ve done that before.

I wish I could say it has been fun.  I rue the day I found blog explosion and an audience though I wouldn’t trade the friends I have made….Even more I rue doing political blogging.  That’s something best left to people who really don’t care about creative writing and I care very much.

Political blogging is best left to thick skinned people who enjoy getting comments telling them they’re mentally ill etc.

So I guess I’m starting from the beginning.

With a blog yet blogless, I leave it to all the people who love having pictures of people they might never ever have actually exchanged an email with on their blog theme. (The followers)

I will be writing more than ever.  Just not here.  If I change my mind and anybody who knows me knows I’m prone to that, please remind me that six years ago I was being published regularly.  Major publications were asking me to re-submit.

Then I began a blog…..Nobody had heard of them.  All my friends made fun of me but at first for a few months I loved it.   I did.  Then the nasty comments began and the fun ended.

I’m sorry if I sound like a spoiled bitch but I’m so tired of the blogging world.

This ad ended it for me.  Just did.  It was so crassly commercial.  Most people who take that course won’t make two cents on a dollar expended for the course.

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Dec
28

Here’s a link to an article I wrote for The Long Island Press’s award winning series: Our Children’s Brains.  Of everything I did this past decade this article was personally the most meaningful.  If I increased awareness of non verbal learning disorder (NLD) just a bit then I did a lot.

I meant to end the year decade with a salute to bloggers because I think we’re at the forefront of a major revolution in communication.  Without blogging there really couldn’t have been Facebook.  Without Facebook there couldn’t have been Twitter.   I don’t know whether I fear or look forward to what comes next.

I began this decade, and I believe decades truly begin when something significant happens, in deep agony.  True the Trade Center had imploded and my mother died suddenly the next month but it was more than that.  I felt as if I were losing my grip on sanity.  I didn’t know about NLD then.  Had I known when I was a decade younger, ha, the worlds I might have conquered.

But I have to remember that I put this blog together and if I have been harping on its former glory lately it’s because it opened doors I never knew existed.

I became friendly with Bone over four years ago.  His writing amazed me and still does.  He keeps getting better.  But it was Bone the person who helped change me.  When we became friendly I realized that I didn’t have to fear the South.

My first three days visiting here I was more than a bit scared.  Actually it rained the first two days and I was glad I could bring my incredible rain making skills to a then drought stricken area.  (Not glad I have that talent now as this is shaping up to be the rainiest December on record.)

The third day I ventured out and nobody bit me.  North Myrtle, so familiar now, seemed like another country.  I knew the New York metro area, South Florida, parts of New England and California.

This is a new world.  My world now and I go into a new decade knowing I can face whatever comes.  I might be a decade older and one of the oldest known bloggers but that never stopped me….

I thank you all who have taken this journey or parts of it with me.

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Aug
16

First the Monterey Pop v Woodstock debate. I wasn’t at either but did see every showing of Monterey Pop the day it came out. I recorded Woodstock the other day after i realized I have only seen snippets, but only seem to watch HGTV or health care reform centered shows.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqWVOSSmPpc&hl=en&fs=1&]
Hi you old faithful friend. I gave you a little party the other day as keeping you up for five years marked a milestone in my life. It was the longest I have been ever able to do anything. Now that you’re five there’s no telling what we’ll be able to achieve together.

Blog let me be honest. There are a few rivals for your affection. First is Facebook. FB is usually fun. If only I could be pithy clever…sort of like Bill Maher who I spent last night watching, with a group of friends, while eating Southern food. We kept rewinding and I still couldn’t remember all his one great one liners on the subject that seems to have overtaken my thoughts–health care reform.

He did ask, and blog you and I have wondered the same, what plans the Republicans have if they hate our plans so much. The only one I can remember is McCain’s “you can take your insurance with you.” As I was paying $1300 a month because I lived on the UWS and had a faux-Rolls life style, that wouldn’t be doable on a greatly reduced income.

OK blog you’re asking as any sane blog would, what does this have to do with FB? Many people seem to plan their days around putting in pithy clever or pithy zany remarks. If I could remember all the awesome amazing incredible interesting thoughts I come up when there’s absolutely no way to write them down–in the shower, on a walk in the beach usually in the water, or when I half wake up at night, the world would know how truly clever I am. I know, I know, everybody says that, but….

Big Question blog: how are you going to help me? We, you and I, lurk in blogs where bloggers who call themselves writers use “your” when they mean “you’re” over and over again. We’re never sure if that’s done on purpose as some kind of weird affectation that seems to work. People just love these blogs that, well, aren’t very well written. Or, we think, interesting as the bloggers uh excuse me writers don’t know how to tell a story or stand away from the pack and let their quirks show. They are super-friendly, often with alcohol inspired blogging names, attend blogging fairs and often write about subjects that were tired three years ago. Yes there is no such thing as a new subject but there should always be a new way to say it.

Blog we have traveled some roads less taken together and some roads most people wouldn’t brave at all. Let’s find a straighter road, not the most traveled, but not apart from the crowd and finally achieve something that will bring in some dinero.

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