How I Came to Be Here

I have been an avid blog reader for several months. This 180^o turn-around occurred after years of thinking an "online diary" must be the height of vanity. The few blogs I stumbled across from time to time certainly reinforced that. Invariaibly written by single young men they all went something like, "today my friends came over and we went out for pizza". Who cares?

Then I discovered the political blogs. Provocative, sometimes compelling. They made me think when they weren't too far over my head. What a great vehicle, I marvelled, for people to express opinions and create dialogue. Political commentary is no longer limited to the people who are paid to have opinions. Everyone who cares can share: a new century version of the soapbox in the park.

True to its name, the web of interlinking sites finally led me to the women's blogs. Serving up a buffet of shopping advice, recipes, anecdotes and philosophy, this weaving of web logs feels most like a support group without boundaries.

Ah, but there is a boundary.

I noticed this network is made up of women in their 30's more or less,
with children
though sometimes not,
married, but sometimes not,
who have lives that feel busy and complicated.

As I lurked and read part of me wanted to be a part of this bright, witty and brave community but, well,
their issues are not really my issues.
I remember those issues.
But my life is not about that anymore.

So I've staked out this far corner to shout and snark about the things that trigger my rant switch. Ageing and ageism. On being redundant. Is there life past the expiration date?

At the very least, perhaps an example of what not to do. Y'think?