I forgot what a royal pain in the arse that it can be to set up a blog. Nonetheless! I am stoked about this here little blog experiment.

You see, internet, I already have way too many blogs.  You might even say I have a problem. There’s the one I write for sort of officially, the personal livejournal which has waaay too many easily offended semi-acquaintances reading it to be personal, the one I started, then abandoned on behalf of a local non-profit, and the expired one I wrote for a class. I don’t know if this here blog is going to make it out in the blogiverse, or if I will quietly put an end to it as a failed experiment.  I will try not to abandon it with hardly any content.  This is a sad fate for blogs. Maybe one day I will have readers to discuss things with, or even grow some ovaries and open it up to people I know in real life.  Stranger things have happened.

There are all kinds of things that I like to worry about, and that I find difficult to discuss with people in real life.  Probably, this has something to do with my rabid cocaine addict of an internal editor. I need to find my own voice without worrying about offending anybody from our little circle of friends. But you, out there on the internet, are welcome to read and be offended or not, as you like. Should you want to comment thoughtfully on any of my ramblings, I would be so delighted for the conversation. Goddess bless the internet.

I think this blog might deal a lot with applied feminism, a topic that seems to be unfashionable among the young ladies of today. For example, my parter Z and I already live with about as many cats as you can reasonably fit into our apartment. We talk a lot about adding a baby human as soon as reasonably possible – that is as soon as I get my “mature student” ass out of grad school and into some kind of paying position with maternity leave. Much angst ensues on the topic of establishing my career, family expectations, sharing the second shift and navigating working motherhood.

But I’m not pregnant, right?  And I’m still in school, and said career is but a glimmer in my eye, right? 

I might add that I’m a planner. Ha ha, no seriously. I study planning. One day, if there is still an economy to speak of by the time I graduate, I will hopefully get paid to worry about things like housing, daycares, roads, train tracks, and perhaps endangered species. I excel  at worrying.

For now, I leave you, nonexistent internet reader, for  a 3pm breakfast of burnt french toast.  I’m not normally this lazy – it’s a golden combination of Z out of town on business, me sick with the flu, and school being out for a few weeks between terms.  Aaaaa!  Cough! Sneeze!