Soo.. I made a comittment to this journal, and I'm trying my damnedest to keep it. It's only ever hard because I can't really tell yet if this place will have a singular purpose or if it will turn out to be more of an all around journal. I like to compartmentalize. Sometimes I do it too much. I don't mix real live friends with internet ones. I don't mix business and pleasure. I keep everything and everyone in neat little boxes. I just haven't figured out which box the blog goes into.
It helps and doesn't that I'm writing to no one. There are no readers here, and probably won't be for a while. If there ever came to be readers here I wouldn't know where they came from. It's not like I'm advertising this place or leaving links just laying around the internet for people to find. That's the scary part of the internet. One witty quip and BAM you're famous. Anyone can see this. Anyone can read it. It's why there have been no identifying pictures of the family up yet. There may never be.
I envy parents that blog and get to tack up pictures of their kids in all kinds of adorable poses and interesting activities. At the same time, I can't just stick The Brat in my blog. What if someone recognizes him? Then they'll know too much. Maybe they'll find things out about him and our family that he didn't want shared. He has rights, even as an autistic seven year old. I try really hard to respect those.
I have a Facebook. Why? Because for all my rebelling-against-the-machine I caved. Punky got one first. I saw games and that was it. There I was plugging in an email and filling out a profile all for the privilege of Vampire Wars. Now I sit around paranoid that people who used to know me look me up on there. I don't want to be looked up. If I had wanted the myriad people of my past in my life, I would have kept them there.
I don't talk to people I went to H.S. with. I don't talk to old church members. I'm a hermit and I like it that way. My addiction to the internet stems from the fact that I can socialize and be anonymous at the same time.
So here I am. Anonymous and sulky because no one will ever read this.
Better news: Thanksgiving is coming up. I've got my menu prepared. I'm a traditionalist. Take that as you will. I love cooking. I love experimenting in the kitchen. I love new recipes. But not on Thanksgiving. The most experimenting I'll do is with desserts. Maybe... maybe... additional sides. Because you can never have too many of those. So, Thanksgiving dinner is a twenty pound turkey, all nice and golden brown. Mashed potatoes. Yukon gold of course, cause it's the holidays. Cornbread stuffing. That cranberry stuff that comes in a can. Annnd... peas and carrots... cause it's a family quirk thing. Dessert for me will be a bowl of whipped cream and a tiny sliver of pumpkin pie. Cause that's how I eat it. It makes Punky go " Would you like pie with your whipped cream? "
No. No I would not thank you. I only ever have whipped cream from November-December. I want a bowl of whipped cream, and a sliver of pie.
I think this is something I get from my mother. She takes coffee with her sugar, as opposed to the other way around.
On a different note. Target baguette's are awesome. No, I've never been to Paris, and Yes, I'm sure the real deal is better, but for a buck and change, what I tasted was nummy.
Can't wait for the weekend. Taking La Familia to a Peruvian folklore night. There shall be food. Of the Peruvian persuasion. The sort I can eat my weight in and I'm a good solid three hundred pounds. Pics! On Sunday most likely.
Till then dear non-readers.