To pull an Anais, or not to pull an Anais? That is the question.
March 18, 2010 § 2 Comments
I don’t know why I started this blog, other than I wanted a space to ramble as incoherently (and coherently) as I liked about all manner of things that interest me. Being a NERD, books interest me the most. Most of the time. Other times it’s other things.
But I told myself never to write here about stuff like… my feelings. However, why do I now feel compelled to wax lyrical over my happiness over a large, warm Pepperidge Farm chocolate-chunk cookie? Why the absurd urge to post pictures of my puppies? Why do I feel like saying, “This is what my nephew said, how cute, teehee!”
(Granted, I know Anais Nin wrote stuff like, “Today I wore my dark, mysterious Spanish shawl and all the men on the bus could not stop looking at me and Fernando kept stroking my fingers and saying, ‘You are the most exquisite woman, Anais. No other woman compares!’ or some such thing like that, but you know, the impulse behind documenting lascivious glances directed at my exquisite self or cute moments with my dog is one and the same, right?)