Nothing. Me. Everything.

I found another blog today that might be worth reading on a regular basis. I’ve bookmarked it, so I’ll be checking it as part of my normal daily blog checking routine; if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just un-bookmark it. She’s an artist; lives downtown; calls herself a “feminist”, but I have to put “feminist” in quotes, because I think she’s using the word “feminist” in a very generalized way, meaning that she’s not really a feminist, and doesn’t understand feminism; has an interesting writing style. Meh. The blog might be interesting, it might not. I was bored when I found her site, so anything might have seemed interesting to me at the time.

I’ve noticed that I get tempted to start writing in a more “stream of conscious” style of writing, when I read too many blogs. Stream of conscious can be effective, when used properly, but most bloggers do it because they simply aren’t capable of crafting proper grammar. Then again, it’s probably also a self-perpetuating thing; if most bloggers do it, most others will follow suit, because we’re a race of followers, not leaders. I just finished saying that even I get tempted to do it, when I read too many blogs, so how can I blame others, who live and breathe blogging?

I have the type of personality which puts me in danger of having a mid-life crisis, when I get to the middle of my life. (Soon, soon…) There is a part of me that can easily see me living downtown, in a crappy apartment, making a living as a writer, staying up all night and sleeping all morning, cranking out X # of pages every afternoon, before joining up with my bohemian friends in the evening, to see where the beautiful city of Toronto takes us. I’d probably be older than most of them, but they’d think that means I have wisdom.

To be clear, a part of me thinks this would be a cool life, but it’s a small part of me. Overall, I don’t actually think this would be a great life—I much prefer the one that I have. Luckily, I have Andrea to keep me sane. So as long as I can keep her happy enough that she won’t leave me, I don’t think I’ll fall into any ridiculous fantasies like the one I just described.

So all I have to do is figure out how to keep Andrea happy, and content, and willing to live with me for the rest of her life. How hard could that be?

Oh crap. Anyone know any cheap apartments downtown?