Coming soon:

100 things about me.

When I first started this little blog, I immediately started thinking about the "100 things" posts I saw on other people's blogs. It was the first thing I read when I stumbled on a blog that I thought was worth checking out. And I thought that maybe it would be an interesting thing to have on my blog.

I'm famous for being late to the party. I realize that y'all did this years ago, but I don't care. I'm doing it now.


So, all spring, summer and fall, I started compiling a mental list. Every time I laughed, or did something I really enjoyed, or heard a song I loved, I would try to remember it so that when it came time for my 100th post, I would have the list mostly compiled.

Ha! The road to hell is paved with good intentions. (I don't know who said it, but I'm pretty sure that copyright has expired).


I even got so far as writing 15 of them down one night (when I was 9/10ths into a bottle of wine. I can't read what I wrote down that night).

Naturally, other than that ill-fated night, I don't remember a damn thing.


It was harder than I thought it would be. But easier, at the same time.

I can think of lots of things about booze, but I don't want it to be just about drinking. I can think of lots of things about knitting, but I don't think I could come up with 100.

I could be all gushy and pick out 100 things that I love, but too many smarmy fuzzy things is just plain yucky, and would plainly bore the hell out of me. And paint an incomplete picture of who I am.



And that's the hard part. I am, like everybody else, complex. I share lots of things in this little public diary, but there's a whole bunch more I keep private. Some stuff is so private I can barely even admit it to myself. Years of therapy would be needed to deal with it all, and frankly, I'm not that interested in going down that road.



So, this is what I'm doing. I'm going to save this as a draft and put it aside. Then, I'll open a new excel spreadsheet and send a row count down the page. I'll talk, and see what happens.