I am very comfortable with moving. I have been doing it for a good part of my life. I am an efficient (though reluctant) packer and I can honestly say that I could pack everything in to a suitcase or two and drive off and not look back knowing that there is always other stuff to be had. I keep the stuff collection to a minimum in my house just in case something like that happened to be necessary, you never know what opportunity may arise and when. That’s what living in a bus will do for you. So in the spirit of moving here is my new blog! This blog offers more choices, more options for expansion, something new to learn and, most importantly it offered the chance on a new name. I needed something that caught the essence, or at least carried the idea, of what I am doing. You see, I am having somewhat of an identity crisis. I know that many of you may not understand this but save your snorts of derision and those of you who have already passed this point in your life save your haughty looks because this is my crisis and when you have one of your own I will promise to spare you my raised eyebrow.
It boils down to this, in a very few days it will be the year 2010, this is significant because we are now a decade in to the new millenium, it is the beginning of the 11th year since my family left our farm home in Montana and drove off in a converted bus but it also holds an even more personal significance for me; I am going to turn 25. Go ahead and laugh. Like I said, this is my crisis and I don’t expect you to understand the depths of the horror that strikes my heart when I hear that gawd-aweful number. I don’t know what I expected, I mean everyone turns 25 at some point, well at least we hope that they do! It sickens my like no other birthday. It seems like I am missing something to turn 25, like I should have accomplished something that I haven’t or that some elusive something should have happened that hasn’t yet, I don’t know, I really can’t explain where this specific fear comes from but it is there sitting like a rock in the back corner of my stomach waiting for the moment when I think of it so that it can drop and make me lose my appetite, which is amazingly hard to do by the way I really enjoy food. Back to naming the blog. I needed something that identified with this other me and this is what I came up with. Prepare to savor this little English lesson I am going to give you courtesy of dictionary.com:
Screed:
1. a long discourse or essay, esp. a diatribe.
2. an informal letter, account, or other piece of writing.
And for those of you who do not know what a diatribe is or who are too lazy to google it yourself:
Diatribe: a bitter, sharply abusive denunciation, attack, or criticism.
Now before you close this blog never to open it again I will clarify that I do not have any attention of abusing you and I have done much soul searching and for the most part have come up clean in the bitterness department though I have been accused of appearing bitter when sounding off on one of my opinions. I plan on attaching norms and challenging the pre-thought and pre-made, I am aiming to criticize as the in the definition “discuss the merits and faults of.” For the most part this will remain an informal piece of writing where I am prone to rant or flashback.
Read, enjoy, comment, discuss, criticize, contradict or leave.
This is Her Screed.
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