So I’m brushing my teeth to go to bed early (which alone is an indication that something has suddenly gone very wrong with the universe) and wondering just what I’ll write about on this blog. What’s my style? Some people’s blogs are really funny. Some write about a particular subject with a sense of authority (or at least knowledge). A friend of mine writes about whatever is up for her lately, but her language is incredibly beautiful. What’s my style? I think it is something like the flight pattern of a drunken fairy.
So I guess I’ll just write and see what it turns into. I suppose you’re supposed to have a purpose or some sort of plan for these things. People seem to be really big on planning and goals. You’ve got to set goals and have a plan. That’s never worked so good for me. I mean really, how does an inebriated fairy plan where she’s going to end up? Whenever I do plan, it never works out that way and the main things in my life were not planned. I’ve wanted a horse as long as anyone, including my mother, can remember. Did I make plans and figure out how to get one? No. I grew up, went to college, and got a job. Why? Because that’s what you do. I would have done that if I’d had no interest in horses. Oh, I also got married in college but getting divorced and being single again was much more conducive to having a horse. And I got one.
You really can’t plan finding a spouse. Sure you can try the dating sites or some kind of matchmaker or singles bars, but how often does that work out well? I got a friend out of one of the dating sites, but the boyfriend (with BOY being the operative word) was a disaster. I found Seamus at the wishing stone on Tory Island, Ireland, although at the time I had no idea he was him. I think that story is a blog post of its own.
And then there’s work. I didn’t plan that either. I didn’t do what I went to college for, although my job is related. My degree is in secondary education and math with a minor in computer science. Bizarre degree for me really, but that’s another story about being young and stupid. Math’s about the only part of that degree that I really get off on. Not that I could calculate a derivative anymore if my life depended on it. Unless it is the derivative of x squared. Then I can live. I found a job as a bookkeeping assistant after college. When it was time to leave there, I found a job as an instructional designer doing Computer Based Training. That would have been way cool if a) it had lasted and b) I hadn’t acquired TBFH (The Boyfriend From Hell) there. Not too long after that I landed as a technical writer documenting factory automation software. Definitely not planned. Not something that feeds my soul, but it does feed my horse.
That’s not to say I never plan. I do plan when we take a trip to Ireland, although even then we explore more than adhere to an itinerary. We did plan the vegetable garden we share with a neighbor — sort of. And I was the self-appointed planning nag for Dad and Barbara’s wedding when they had two months to put it together. That was fun! Although my approach to that was a little slap happy. Rather drunken fairyish.
Hm. Perhaps I’ve found my style.