And Louis is through with playing for the night. He's retired to his favorite place to sleep other than in the bed. Good dawg. Easy.
Monday, January 7, 2008
and I fully admit
that I copied my entire facebook profile for my profile for this thing so yes, I depend on facebook. I don't shun it completely. Thanks to Jackie, by the way, for setting this thing up for me. That's right, Jackie did it. Lest someone out there thought I was jockin' his/her blog for some insane reason.
And Louis is through with playing for the night. He's retired to his favorite place to sleep other than in the bed. Good dawg. Easy.
And Louis is through with playing for the night. He's retired to his favorite place to sleep other than in the bed. Good dawg. Easy.
a title less sexually suggestive...
Not that I don't appreciate Jackie's first blog title. I do, it's just a little graphic.
So, I'm finally starting a blog. It's something I've been wanting to do for over a year now, and one reason I didn't do it was the advent of what was first perceived as brilliant, the phenomenon of online social communities. I thought, "oh, well there's myspace and facebook, I can just put whatever on there and the people I'd want to read it will read it there." Not so, however.
Most of the people I'd actually want to read the things I would have to say or report are not on facebook or myspace, and the extreme public exposure of those sites is starting to freak me out a bit just in general. I actually joined both of them a long time ago, Friendster too, and canceled my accounts with all three, only to get sucked back in to the first two. And don't get me wrong, it's good to get to see in a really quick scan what shows about 50 different theatre friends all over the country are doing, which folks from high school are married, who's having babies (definitely not me), and I'm really loving the recent addition of several former teachers and seeing their status postings about having a sandwich. However, I have seen hours of my life tumble down the drain looking at pictures of that trashy 17 year old girl I did a show with once posing with her friends in terribly unseasonable clothes, clicking bleary-eyed through free gifts given to me for Christmas under my virtual Christmas tree, and looking at the status updates of that girl who is "my friend," who was apparently in University Theatre w/ us at NCSU, but I can't quite remember ever meeting her. I can't do it anymore. My brain is full of useless information about people I don't even really care that much for, and I'm a smarter girl than that. I know better.
I have a thesis to write, I have a stack of books I'm excited about reading, I have tons of music I want to listen to without distraction, I have an adorable little dog who's looking up at me, snaggle-toothed and wide-eyed, waiting patiently for me to turn away from the computer and throw his rope bone again. Good thing I've spent the last couple of hours or so setting up this blog. Now it's time to unpack my brand new laptop. I have such trouble getting motivated to write my thesis in my own apartment, now that I finally have a laptop, I can go to teahouses/bookstores/libraries/etc and get this thing finished once and for all. Not to mention the beauty of freshly french-pressed Sumatra while you're writing about Jewish chicks who sing their primary question in life to God. So yay for the new Compaq Presario. I may ban facebook from it. But Gchat stays, as it's built in to gmail. Nobody's perfect.
So, I'm finally starting a blog. It's something I've been wanting to do for over a year now, and one reason I didn't do it was the advent of what was first perceived as brilliant, the phenomenon of online social communities. I thought, "oh, well there's myspace and facebook, I can just put whatever on there and the people I'd want to read it will read it there." Not so, however.
Most of the people I'd actually want to read the things I would have to say or report are not on facebook or myspace, and the extreme public exposure of those sites is starting to freak me out a bit just in general. I actually joined both of them a long time ago, Friendster too, and canceled my accounts with all three, only to get sucked back in to the first two. And don't get me wrong, it's good to get to see in a really quick scan what shows about 50 different theatre friends all over the country are doing, which folks from high school are married, who's having babies (definitely not me), and I'm really loving the recent addition of several former teachers and seeing their status postings about having a sandwich. However, I have seen hours of my life tumble down the drain looking at pictures of that trashy 17 year old girl I did a show with once posing with her friends in terribly unseasonable clothes, clicking bleary-eyed through free gifts given to me for Christmas under my virtual Christmas tree, and looking at the status updates of that girl who is "my friend," who was apparently in University Theatre w/ us at NCSU, but I can't quite remember ever meeting her. I can't do it anymore. My brain is full of useless information about people I don't even really care that much for, and I'm a smarter girl than that. I know better.
I have a thesis to write, I have a stack of books I'm excited about reading, I have tons of music I want to listen to without distraction, I have an adorable little dog who's looking up at me, snaggle-toothed and wide-eyed, waiting patiently for me to turn away from the computer and throw his rope bone again. Good thing I've spent the last couple of hours or so setting up this blog. Now it's time to unpack my brand new laptop. I have such trouble getting motivated to write my thesis in my own apartment, now that I finally have a laptop, I can go to teahouses/bookstores/libraries/etc and get this thing finished once and for all. Not to mention the beauty of freshly french-pressed Sumatra while you're writing about Jewish chicks who sing their primary question in life to God. So yay for the new Compaq Presario. I may ban facebook from it. But Gchat stays, as it's built in to gmail. Nobody's perfect.
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