The Race From Freeport

You know what's great when you have an obsessive personality? FedEx shipment tracking.

I ordered some things from L.L. Bean that are coming in two different shipments and I've been watching them race down the coast to my house from Freeport, Maine. I love that you can track the exact minute they complete each step in the process. Surprisingly, the single item that I ordered yesterday is in the lead over the two items I ordered the day before.

Update: I just hit "refresh" and found out that the package with the single item is on the truck and out for delivery. You know, for those of you who are keeping track. Or placing bets.

Or really, really bored.

Someone's Been Googling Me

Hey! Did you just Google me?

I can tell, you know. When you Google me, that is. About a month ago, I signed up for site statistics from Sitemeter. It tells me how long someone visits, for example, and how many pages they click on, and the referring URL (what page they came from). If you want to see who visits this site, scroll down to the bottom of the page and click on that odd little multi-colored square.

I can't tell who you are or anything. Just what you (and by you I mean you, but only in an anonymous kind of way) do just before and during your visit to the site. And, it just so happens, that if the referring URL is a search engine, I can see the search words you used to find me. Today two people searched for "Gienna" and ended up at my site. Actually, one person searched for "Gienna." Someone else, oddly enough, searched for "giEnnA."

I get the most visits from people wanting to know "What is wrong with the misfit girl doll?" And now I kind of feel bad, because in that post I was flip about the girl doll's problem. I said she was depressed. I should have said that her problems are psychological. Mental illness is not a joke, people.

The second most popular search is for various members of the Fox 25 News team. And I even got one search for "Colin Farrell's package." It's not even like package is the standard term, you know?

People are such a fucking mySterY.

My Christmas Tree (Detail)

Photo Friday: Reflections

I like the way this picture came out, but I'd like to try again when there's a full moon. The problem is that there are so many variables. The moon for one. But there also has to be a high tide at the right time of night. It can't be too windy, otherwise the water is too rough to show the relection of the lights. And it has to be partly cloudy. If there are too many clouds you don't get that pretty Maxwell Parish blue sky.

I'll keep checking the phases of the moon, the tide charts, and the weather forcast. Meanwhile, this will have to do as my Photo Friday submission for this past week's challenge, which was "reflections."

This week's challenge is "abandoned."

Gifts for Writers and Other Wordies

I'm a little behind on my Christmas shopping. I have a couple things for my mom, one thing for my favorite baby, and that's about it. It seems like this is the year for online shopping. But even that takes a little planning ahead.

One site I'm definitely going to shop: The Reader's Catalog. It's got great gifts for anyone who loves words. Among my favorites: the alphabet mug; the alphabet tie; and journals in different sizes and colors.

I also like the 2005 Granta diary, but it is less expensive at Amazon. Amazon's description is inaccurate, though -- the diary actually features 52 different book jacket designs from the past 100 years, including first edition covers of The Hobbit, Casino Royale, Trainspotting, On the Road, and The Old Man and the Sea.

Nice.

The Mood Swing Shift

If anyone out there is thinking about becoming a freelance writer (Work in your pajamas! Take Oprah breaks! Sleep late! And take naps!), there is something you should know.

It is a totally crazy way to make a living.

For days on end there's no paying work to do. So you rearrange the furniture, balance your checkbook to the penny, read books and day dream. You muse about how wonderful your life is, and remember the days when the alarm clock woke you (or didn't) at 5:30 a.m. You sip your coffee while watching the neighbors scrape ice off their cars. Brrr. Put on a nice, warm, sweater and update your blog and work on that short story you've been neglecting. And then you start to get bored. Just a little at first. But then that feeling that you're forgetting something important starts to grow. There's only so many errands you can do, after all. There's only so much cleaning. You can only check your email a few hundred times a day before you start to consider reading the spam.

And then, suddenly, there is not one project due but three. And they're all due on the same day. And then suddenly that day is tomorrow. And how exactly did that happen? And, by the way, the dentist appointment you made six months ago? Without fail it falls in the middle of the madness. So you write from sunup to sundown (well, you write from sunup to sundown in the winter, anyway, when the days are shorter). Sometimes you take a quick break for supper and then go back online to do some research. Some days you kind of foget to eat. On bad days you forget to shower.

It feels good to be working again, of course. And you can't complain that you're finally earning some money, either. But, bottom line, it's the occupational equivalent of manic depression. High highs, low lows and nothing in between.

So if you're the kind of person who likes a nice, orderly, 9 to 5, structured, predictable, non-crazy, scheduled life (and, by the way, I'm not) do not under any circumstances become a freelance writer.

That's my career advice/public service announcement for today. Now I either have to get back to work, get something to eat, or take a shower.