Hair: Let's just not go there for awhile
Nothin' to say but I have discovered a new (to me) site this week. And I like the first one listed for today:
"Life is a sexually transmitted disease." -- Anon.One of the other quotes today is "Every day, in every way, I'm getting better and better." (Emile Coue) This is one of those weird synergies: I've been listening to my Best of John Lennon CD this week, especially the songs from his Double Fantasy album. For many reasons--not just the obvious--I love the song "Beautiful Boy." And the Coue quote is part of the lyrics, paraphrased.
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Awhile back, there was a posting on another blog I read about anonymous/pseudonymous blogging. I had mentioned it and I want to get back to it.
The main reason I blog sans name is so that I can say what's on my mind about the people around me, 95% of whom do not even know what a blog is, much less that I do one. It's a place for me to vent, to say what I'm thinking right now about events without having to self-censor (much). It's really a matter of pure selfishness and paranoia. I've Googled my site. Along with the Netstat searches and an email from a high school friend (whose name I mentioned, stupidly, in full) this has proven that anyone could find themselves if I constantly used real names in my blog. And the people I work with DO know how to Google. Having worked for Psycho-Boss in a previous job, and living with The Beast, I have learned that much as I want to assume people will understand that I was kidding, it was a joke, and besides that entry was 3 months ago, if I say So-and-So is a jerk, they will think I mean it perpetually. Well, and frankly, if I read that somewhere, I'd be hurt, too.
Everything I say on my blog is true at the moment I write it, at least in the sense that it's real to me. Things change; I find out more information, get a better attitude, stop caring, whatever....my reaction changes. But short of going back and editing every former entry, I can't change what's been written. Some might then consider not saying "mean things." Believe me, I don't say half of the mean things I think! If I say them (type them) though, they seem to go away. It's a girly thing, I've read, this need to vent, to say what's bothering me and be at least temporarily emptied of the bad feelings. So much for psychology...I just know that when I don't vent, it clogs up my insides and I end up being even MORE cranky. Which, believe it or not, is possible, even on the worst of days! It's not pretty, believe me.
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And now I'm off to Starbucks--yeah, woo-hoo, I don't drink coffee--to meet with some church members about starting a prayer group for the new building. I'm going with full armor, as the woman leading it has achieved the dubious nickname (in my head) of Holier-Than-Thou. Sigh.... Takes all kinds, doesn't it?
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