Scary steps

hum your national anthem and then beeeeeeeppppp

Technology is not much different from magic, white and black. Considering I come from a time when television came in two colours, black and white and one choice of channel, the current range of stuff that twitters, bleeps, rings and sings songs in the ears of millions is nothing short of dazzling.

It still comes down to one individual person, i.e. me, regardless of who that “me” may be, however, and that is what is even more amazing. But I digress.

I started blogging many years ago back in the days when it was done with a pen and a left over scribbler from school. Hands up, how many people actually remember using the word “scribbler” for note book? Not the currently vogue plasticized synthetic mole skinned-nation or even the spiral bound 3 subject loose leaf 3 hole punched variety. I mean the ones with a plain blue or yellow cover with a map of, in my case, Canada on the front. I can’t find my first few blogs because they are all in a box in the basement. Or have been lost over the many moves I made between the ages of 18 to 30. I called them diaries. Or journals, depending on my age and need for a sense of sophistication.

The point is that blogging isn’t new but I never subjected the world as a whole to my soul baring words of so terribly important “I can’t believe she actually said I was a retard in front of all my friends” confessions. Then along came the computer and suddenly I could do it all on the magic word processor.  And I’ve left a trail of blogs throughout the cloud…little half thoughts and mental detritus.

there goes the name of my Grade 10 math teacher + the first year of Monty Python

Some have been scooped up, consolidated and moved to this home. Others have been lost along with the group of brain cells that include the combination to my locker in Grade 8 and a Betty Crocker Jr. sloppy joe recipe Dad always asked me to make. I think I lost those ones shortly after I discovered tequila. They were replaced with the reasons why I don’t drink tequila anymore.

But I digress. There is a habit of thinking I can’t delete where I have been before because I might have to go back there for something. This is blog hoarding.

So, to cure myself of this one little bit of OCD I have deleted a couple of old WordPress.com blogs that should have all their content here. It was apparently misdirecting people – okay one person – so why keep it? Now maybe I can move on to tackling that pile of stuff under the unmatched socks heaped up against the east wall of my bedroom. Maybe I’ll find the dehumidifier I think we used to have….