I Feel Weird Today

(March 20, 2007)

OK, something weird has happened. (Well LOTS of weird things are always happening, but this one is important because it affects you, and so I sit here at 2am writing all about it. For YOU.)

So, Wolf has been working on Low Budget Superhero. It's officially a 'zine now. Not a booking/PR site. It's linked in the sidebar to the left, go ahead, take a look. I'll wait.

...

One of the categories is...DIARY! Wolf found a way to export all these Diaryland entries (seven years!) and put them up on Low Budget Superhero. So now...well...officially...I kind of don't need Diaryland anymore. The reason I know is because "You don't need Diaryland anymore," Wolf said. See how nothing gets by me?

"You can blog right in your Low Budget Superhero site."

"I know," I said.

"I know it's scary," he said. He can be very comforting when it comes to technology. It's one of his superpowers. He can also barbecue.

What I didn't say was, "I'm having trouble letting go." Diaryland! You writers out there, remember when you first started to lay pen to paper? Didn't it have to be the right kind of pen, the right color, the right weight, the right kind of paper, the right rule. I could never write in wide rule. I always HAD to have college ruled paper. And blue pens. Then one year, suddenly, I could not write unless I had a black pen. Then when I got a typewriter it felt weird again. Then when I got a computer in college it was hard to find my "voice" for awhile, until I got used to it. So...well I'm used to Diaryland. It's like coming home. What made me ask for a Diary on the new LBSH page, am I nuts?

Because Wolf spent time coding it, I put a couple entries up on Low Budget Superhero, but it felt like wearing someone else's underoos. "These are Catwoman underoos. Mine are Superman." It just wasn't right. So what should I do, stay here in D'land, or just make the leap and have done with it?

For right now I'll stay here because I'm in the middle of an entry. Also, there's a compromise with myself I'm thinking about: "Diary" need not be a big, bold header on LBSH.com, it can be a more subtle page, and I can go in and maybe make it more like home. Y'know, like when you bring your teddy bear on business trips. (No? Just me? Okay.) He can change the "Diary" heading to "News" and I'll post listings and stuff. Howzat?

Other weird stuff: today I Instant Messaged Hub. "Whatcha doing this weekend?" It was a joke because, "I'm having a baby, why!?" he said, getting the joke. Kelly's so due, oh my GOD. A Hublet. In the world! THIS weekend. His dad must be freaking out. He's a very sentimental man and, though he has grandkids, Hub is HIS baby, having a baby. I would say that I plan to be the cool aunt, except that Hub's brothers already have cool wives and, of course, I'm not related. Technically. But "I'm your aunt Lexi" is going to be much easier than "I'm someone who went to high school with your daddy twenty years ago and then we were in a committed relationship for ten years but then we grew apart and he married your wonderful mommy and he feels like a brother to me now. Got your nose!"

A baby. Good lord. I can't even get my laundry done. I'm serious, I'm sitting here in my RadioBoston.com T shirt from 2002 and nothing else because, after my shower tonight I didn't wanna "waste" a pair of undies just to sleep in; not that they ever stay on long, my man is a TIGER. He's a sleeping tiger at the moment. That's because I worked him over good. Yeah, that's right.

Seriously, I have to do some laundry after work tomorrow. Especically since Luke (I know, I'm not linking anybody's name in this entry, I'll do it later, it's TWO IN THE MORNING, GRANDMA) wants to get some people together to go sing karaoke tomorrow night. "I can't go, I'm out of panties" is just about what my friends expect from me, but still.

I had a crazy dream the other night. Some people I know were in it, and they're married (or may as well be) and, get this, this is the SECOND time I've dreamt of them. Last time we three were driving around in their car, and it could shift into flying mode, which was great because they lived on the side of a cliff and you pretty much needed a flying car to get up to their house. This time, we were in a skyscraper that was like something out of Brazil, and I was a large black woman who'd stolen some necklaces and sweaters from a store on the ground floor. Luckily I knew how to operate the freight elevator, and with the help of this couple I know, I escaped to the roof...there was more but I forget.

Ever live in a haunted house? I did.

I really have to write back to the old friends who've emailed me. Sorry guys, I'm spinning a lot of plates at the moment. YES to dinners, yes to mad bio writing sessions, yes to Red Sox on the roof (on the porch? roof? roof porch?) and all the rest of you. You are all very nice. (Oh Lola...I swear to god, Paris in 2007 if it kills me).

Is this entry strange? I feel weird today.