I tried to get onto my blog this morning and it told me that my cookies were disabled. Okay, I am completely computer challenged and I had no idea what the thing was trying to tell me. My cookies? I didn't even know I had cookies. But it's working now so I am assuming that my cookies are in working order again.
Some people think that if I don't write on my blog it means... I'm dead. Or dying or something awful is happening. Now, that may be true at some time during this process but for now the reason I don't always write is that I'm not here or I'm writing something else or nothing really happened on that particular day although I have found that something always seems to happen no matter how insignificant it might appear at the time.
For instance...I took a yoga class this morning and I got there a few minutes early so I sat down and checked out one of those free yoga magazines. I love the ads. There is someone who describes herself as a "Conscious Bookkeeper." What does that mean, exactly? Who would hire a bookkeeper who wasn't conscious? Wouldn't you want her to be paying attention at all times? These are your books we're talking about. And then there was my favorite...A Psychic Realtor. I kid you not. How the hell d0es that work? Does she show you a house and say, "Oh no. Uh uh. You get out of here as fast as you can. This is so not the house for you." Or do you go to her office and she closes her eyes and tells you how many bedrooms you want and if you want Tudor or Country English? And are these services only for people who live in LA? I somehow cannot imagine a psychic realtor in Davenport Iowa. But maybe these people are for real. And if everyone had a psychic realtor maybe we wouldn't be having all these forclosure problems. And then, in these magazines, there are all these pictures of people who can wrap their ankle behind their neck. Is that really necessary? What, exactly, is the purpose of that? It's just another one of those crazy things that humans do to occupy themselves while they're alive. I actually could spend the rest of my days trying to get my ankle behind my neck. What's the difference between that and writing a novel? Except, maybe, a living.
Okay, so I hate the young woman who wrote Juno. First of all, she's 29. Hate her. She made it pretty quickly. Hate her. She's talented. Hate her. But here's what really got me. She apparently started with a blog. I read this in a couple of newspapers. And one of the things they always point out is that her blog is very honest and "refreshing" and she even talks about things like the BREAKUP OF HER MARRIAGE!
These kind of magical things only happen to certain people. She writes a blog and someone reads it and then she sells a book and then she sells a movie. AND SHE'S 29! And her movie is really good. BUT, can she put her ankle behind her neck? See, if I could do that I wouldn't be filled with so much jealousy that I could explode because I would have this thing that I could do that only certain insane people can do. But everyone can write. Everyone and their mother can write. And there are those who make it...Big Time. And yes, I'm glad she's a woman and yes, I'm glad she's talented because she deserves to make it. But I am older and the clock is tick tick ticking and what if the right person does not read my blog. And she has her whole life ahead of her...
Bad things can happen. She might run out of ideas. Her next movie might be a bomb.
But I hope that doesn't happen. She actually seems very cool. She probably doesn't have any problem with her cookies. Maybe that's just an age thing.