it’s time, i think, to close down shop.

when i started this blog i intentionally chose not to be anonymous. partly, i figured, that my webworld and my real world, at least in this arena, would have few reasons to collide. and partly i had some vague but grandiose notions about integrity and honesty and not hiding. so i figured hiding in plain sight — not writing a totally anonymous blog, but not sharing the blog with people i didn’t necessarily want reading it — was a good compromise. and it has been. but it no longer is.

hiding in plain sight is more complicated, and not as easy, as i thought it would be. so i’m reconsidering my options. one is to keep this site and go totally password protected. another is to keep this site and simply password-protect those posts where it seems necessary or relevant, or that at least it will assuage my anxiety. and yet another is to rebuild, this time anonymously. i’m leaning toward the latter.

in the meantime — both while i figure out what i want to do, and then get around to actually doing it — i’ve not been posting or commenting elsewhere. (but notthemama, i have a few choice words for your dog-owning employers, most of which stem from my own awareness of class issues and my discomfort with people who feel like it’s ok to pay people to clean up their messes. in your case this is complicated because not only do they not pay you to clean up, they expect it and are graceless anyway. double-grrrr.) so i’m quiet on the ‘nets, but not because i’m not thinking about you all or keeping up with you.

since niobe has graciously tagged all her readers, and since i believe my readers are enough like me that they don’t want to hear about again, still, come on already carole write about something else, the vanishing twin, i figured i’d give it a whirl.

10 things i don’t get:

the replacements. sorry, s. but you can keep trying to change my musical tastes.

this new city i live in. it’s kinda the south, kinda the midwest, with a bit of eastern flair thrown in. it has an identity crisis and as best as i can tell, nobody who lives here loves living here. weird.

meddling. do you really think you’re so smart that everybody wants your input on everything — or frankly, anything? and if you were so smart, don’t you think your life would be way too interesting and busy and rich for you to be walking around giving everybody else advice? think about it for a minute. if you can.

pe.doph.ilia jokes. i know a woman whom i don’t consider a friend, although many of my friends do. she is short. she likes to tell these jokes. many of her friends laugh at them. wtf?

drivers who won’t move out of the merge lane, even though they don’t need to be in it. ok, i get that they are egocentric enough not to acknowledge that driving is a community effort and other people actually are on the road, and that we all need to work together to make this thing called “traffic” work. i just don’t get why they have that mindset.

a particular religious faith which shall go nameless for now. but i was raised in it and roughly half of my family are still believers. i don’t usually care much what people believe in, at least in the privacy of their own homes — it’s not my business, right? — but i gotta say, really? you really believe in something that has been historically documented as 19th-century science fiction? really?

enough time with my friends. especially since i was stupid enough to move away from all of them.

enough time with myself.

my own hang-ups. i have so many, and i’ve had them for so long, you’d think i’d have a clue by now. but no.

weird little-kid foods. see julie on this (scroll down to “i wish i were making this up”). why — why? — make the choice to teach kids unhealthy relationships with food?