My moment is in. I have finally succombed to the technilogical desires and pomposity that has already infected the minds of millions around me:
I have started a blog. And by god, it's going to be a great one.
Why now, though? Peer pressure?
Bordem?
Overwhelming need to have opinions recognized and reaffirmed (read: not getting enough attention)?
All of the above?
Perhaps. No matter what internal conflicts spured me to action, I plan on treating this blogging endeavor as I would any other... Smother it with all I got till it stops calling.
As for the name of the blog- ''Mes pieds me portent'' translates to ''My feet carry me.'' An acclaimation to how grateful I am of my independence. Reliant on and accountable for only myself. I can respectfully acknowledge how the environment in which I grew up helped mold me into an otherwise savvy creature, and I know that much of the opportunities which I have been given in recent years came due to personal life decisions that I had the freedom to make. But the reason my gratitude is so great is because I know not every woman in this world (hell, this country) can enjoy these circumstances.
Most of my close friends (anyone who has had a conversation with me in the past two years, really) know by now my goal to study the morality behind southest Asia's sex tourism market set in the back-drop of Thailand. And if the Universe let's me have my way, that dream will be a reality in just a few months. But what about in the meantime, when I'm not working directly with the women in these particular countries yet, whose cultures I have only just knicked the realm of understanding? There is just as much a need for nourishment in the hearts of women in my own backyard as there is on the other side of the globe. This is the sort of awareness I hope to cultivate through this 'ere blog, via activities to get involved with here in da 'burgh, latest literature on status quo, shining ''Rosie the Rivetor''-esque stars to keep yer eye on... that sort of schtick.
Of course, the power of knowing that you, the lovely general populace, will read anything I write down here so long as I ask you nicely (PRETTY PLZ!!) will be too delicious to not take advantage of every once in a while, so watch out for the occasional ruminations on life's purpose, or, the extra saucy sidedish, ''OHEMGZ She Said Whaaaa???'' -- the Gossip Girl-styled skinny on my nearest and dearest. Superficial to sentimental, I gotcha covered.
I hope this teaser has sufficiently hooked you in for the longrun. At least until the next post. (Let's hope they are not one and the same.)
I also graciously invite any and all opinions, be it on the post's respective subject, on how many parentheticals and collans I use (warning: it's a lot), or any other legitimate suggestions you may have for improving a budding non-fiction writer's technique.
Seeing as it is now 2:31 am, and that I started writing this at quarter after 1:00, I bid you all adieu.
~J.
I have started a blog. And by god, it's going to be a great one.
Why now, though? Peer pressure?
Bordem?
Overwhelming need to have opinions recognized and reaffirmed (read: not getting enough attention)?
All of the above?
Perhaps. No matter what internal conflicts spured me to action, I plan on treating this blogging endeavor as I would any other... Smother it with all I got till it stops calling.
As for the name of the blog- ''Mes pieds me portent'' translates to ''My feet carry me.'' An acclaimation to how grateful I am of my independence. Reliant on and accountable for only myself. I can respectfully acknowledge how the environment in which I grew up helped mold me into an otherwise savvy creature, and I know that much of the opportunities which I have been given in recent years came due to personal life decisions that I had the freedom to make. But the reason my gratitude is so great is because I know not every woman in this world (hell, this country) can enjoy these circumstances.
Most of my close friends (anyone who has had a conversation with me in the past two years, really) know by now my goal to study the morality behind southest Asia's sex tourism market set in the back-drop of Thailand. And if the Universe let's me have my way, that dream will be a reality in just a few months. But what about in the meantime, when I'm not working directly with the women in these particular countries yet, whose cultures I have only just knicked the realm of understanding? There is just as much a need for nourishment in the hearts of women in my own backyard as there is on the other side of the globe. This is the sort of awareness I hope to cultivate through this 'ere blog, via activities to get involved with here in da 'burgh, latest literature on status quo, shining ''Rosie the Rivetor''-esque stars to keep yer eye on... that sort of schtick.
Of course, the power of knowing that you, the lovely general populace, will read anything I write down here so long as I ask you nicely (PRETTY PLZ!!) will be too delicious to not take advantage of every once in a while, so watch out for the occasional ruminations on life's purpose, or, the extra saucy sidedish, ''OHEMGZ She Said Whaaaa???'' -- the Gossip Girl-styled skinny on my nearest and dearest. Superficial to sentimental, I gotcha covered.
I hope this teaser has sufficiently hooked you in for the longrun. At least until the next post. (Let's hope they are not one and the same.)
I also graciously invite any and all opinions, be it on the post's respective subject, on how many parentheticals and collans I use (warning: it's a lot), or any other legitimate suggestions you may have for improving a budding non-fiction writer's technique.
Seeing as it is now 2:31 am, and that I started writing this at quarter after 1:00, I bid you all adieu.
~J.
