So. My vacation.

I don’t know how to write about it. There was the surface stuff, i.e., We went out for sushi. And the non-personal stuff, i.e., I only slept 7.5 hours during the first three days. But so much of it was internal, interior. One doesn’t just go see her satguru and come back the same, you know?

One also doesn’t just say in public that her personal Jesus is alive and in the middle of a world tour, with a three-day break to visit the world parliament of religions thank you very much. It just isn’t done. Budda, Christ, they’re fine – safely dead thousands of years. But to admit someone a thousand years dead was cool is very different from someone “in this day and age!” wandering around being clearly better than the rest of us.

So I haven’t posted on my blog yet about my vacation, which was specifically and entirely for and about seeing Mother for as many minutes as I could.

Hmm.

The most important thing in my life, and I don’t even write an entry about it?

If you’ve ever seen a site run by Movabletype (uh, like the one you’re reading now), you’re probably familiar with the famous folks who built it? Anyhow, I was reading a post in Mena’s blog in which she talks about blogging “through the responsible lens of emotional and personal distance,” and realized all bloggers, no matter how trivial their audience, have to deal with these issues of self-censorship: How much do I say? and Who won’t get what I do say? and Am I willing to weather the storm the non-getters may cause me?

In other words, if you really want to know about the personal (read: spiritual) part of my vacation, you may, just this once, visit my very secret blog here. It’s been up a long time but I stopped linking to it because such a small percentage of my bandwidth would ever get it… and/or I’m afraid the people who might get it might wig me out if they decided to share. My post isn’t done yet, but it will be.

If the other girls on the trip had blogs I’d point you their way too, for a three-dimensional view, but oddly they’re all blog-free… even the geekiest one among them. I think it’s weird, considering that anyone can sign up for a free TypePad or Xanga blog in about 8.6 seconds.

Or maybe not everyone is ready for this new(ish) communication: once upon a time, a communication was less confusing. Either it was for a terribly small group (the person you were talking to, or the small group you were talking to) or a terribly large one (the great American novel) and it was directional: a letter goes to the address it’s mailed to. There wasn’t this stress of not knowing who your audience was.

Blogging’s a roulette: who’ll see this entry? And when? Can I count on it that s/he won’t see it until it’s become a cold potato?

Maybe being blog-free is the best approach to blogging. But I’ve had mine for so long!
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I just read this review of the remake of The Stepford Wives and just wanted to say this: I am so tired of pissed off bitches.

I am certainly against crimes being committed against women! Yet I’m also against crimes being committed against men. And until our modern day pissed off bitches (er, sorry: feminists) can stop seeing the world through the eyes of victimhood, we’re just going to keep turning men more and more into what we’re accusing them of: shallow, simple, selfish jerks.

Today is the first day of my vacation!

Well, actually I had Saturday, Sunday, and Monday off just like everyone else, but I spent that time doing every chore I could think of so Mr. Brett won’t have to, you know, like, think or do anything for himself while I’m gone. (Snort!)

I usually work three days a week. This week, however, I’m working five.

Today is day four of this unending stint, and I’ll tell you what: three is better than five. I rather wish I were at home doing some knitting.

After reading a book or two on hypothyroidism, I had all kinds of new fancy opinions. Then I made the mistake of spending some time reading ‘legit’ information, such as that posted on the Internet by thyroid specialists and drug companies.

These sites made me feel as if there’s no way I could possibly have a thyroid disorder – even though all my symtoms are consistent – because my labs are ‘normal’. (Well, the one and only lab I’ve ever been able to get so far.)