I’ve lost track of how many blogs I’ve started and stopped. I sort of like the nomadic existence of writing in this way. Reinventing. Being rediscovered by those of you who haven’t grown weary of re-book-marking me. I know. It takes much effort. “bookmark>bookmark this page”. Ow. I’m tired just writing it.
It is like Where’s Waldo, except that I don’t wear striped shirts and hats. Mobius, Julia, Tripping, etc. etc. Wearing stripes everyday is boring.
And besides, I read things almost daily and think, “what a GREAT blog name”. Then I run out and see if it is available. I haven’t changed my haircut since senior high. So I have to change something.
I feel disembodied if I don’t have someplace to post. And yet, there are many days that I have nothing to post. But still it is nice to have someplace to call home.
And so… it begins.
On Becoming My Grandmother
3 months ago