i can't wait to be a grandma

I must admit I never thought I would succumb to the desolate and impersonal world we know as the "intra-web," but it seems this is the direction in which we're headed these days, so I guess if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.  So here it is, my blog.

Part of my decision to start this blawg was because I thought it might be a cool way for people to catch up with me while I am studying abroad in Florence.  However, "i can't wait to be a grandma" is most certainly not going to be an itinerary of my day-to-day routine.  Instead it is going to be more of a free-for-all...I'll post photoz I've taken, cool things that I see, thoughts I think but never say aloud, websites I'm into, or songs I'm digging.  I love that word, digging.

The more spontaneous and random this thing is, the better.  Plus, updating a blog makes me feel a lot cooler than updating my facebook profile.

The idea of putting my writing in a public space is kind of strange.  Anyone can be reading this thing; friends, strangers, pedophiles.  It reminds me a bit of graffiti; the idea of publicly displaying oneself through tags and street art as a form of communication and advertisement of oneself (this is not the accurate or literal definition).

Seeing my own thoughts written out is also a bit strange.  It makes them look so concrete and final.  It's like that tiny little voice inside my head becomes so much more relevant when I actually write it out.  I guess I just need to get used to writing in first person.  I am so used to objectively writing about things like "the repercussions that World War One had on the Dadaists in Zurich" or "why Miles Davis' electronic period was indirectly influenced by afro-futurism."  This makes me feel like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and The City.  It also makes me feel like I am writing an opinion column.  Whenever I read those editorials, I always catch myself sub-consciously thinking about the author of the piece.  I usually imagine the same scenario for every author:  he/she is sitting on their countertop in their kitchen.  Sunlight floods the room.  Books, papers, and mugs with coffee and tea stains are scattered everywhere.  A cat.  Always a cat.  What is it about cats?  Everyone has a cat.  Cats are like babies without personalities; they just stare at you until the get bored and curl up in a corner somewhere.