Friday, August 20, 2010

New Blog

I am done with school, done with national board exams, I have my license hung on the wall of my newly constructed (and sanded, painted, trimmed and furnished) office.  That means I have more time to do something other than study like a maniac.  My blog has been a big disappointment because I never truly blogged, I mostly just re-posting articles that provided important information on a topic of great interest.

However, that was the Era of Karen-the-Grad-Student.   I am back in the world of grown-ups, where people actually make money for all the hours of work they do, which students most assuredly do not.  In fact, students are paying someone else for the privilege of doing long hours of hard work.  (I should have been a student in Germany or France, where education is free, free, free!)  Now, I am truly going to blog.  I am, as of today, a blogger.

People have written journals since, well, since the invention of writing I imagine.  That must be tens of thousands of years ago.  A journal is a daily record of one person's unique take on life.  Famous journalists that I've enjoyed include Descartes, Mark Twain, de Tocqueville, Julie Powell. . . actually, I never read the book, I just saw the movie because I love Meryl Streep's work as an actress, and she did NOT disappoint.  I used to watch Julia Child's television show when I was a child (ha ha), and Meryl was a note-perfect reproduction.

As a young person, I kept a journal as a way to express my feelings as I tried (very hard) to figure out life.  I was raised in a very strict, fundamentalist Christian family, but an inherently artistic nature combined with incredible drive and a defining pragmatism led me first to reject that heritage (although not Christ himself, he was one very cool and spiritually accomplished dude).  But it was another decade and many semesters of philosophy and religion courses at Stanford before I began to find my own set of beliefs that I could test in the fires of daily human life.  Journaling was an important outlet.

True "journal"-ing would be an interesting challenge:  Can I come up with one truly original thought every day?  That shouldn't be too hard, not with my constantly simmering brain.  Ask my friends:  I bubble like a fountain, probably ad nauseam.  Ah, well, it is what it is.  I enjoy it.  There's no such thing as bored in my world.

My interests?  There will be socio-political analysis and commentary, of course.  And humorous observations (no, I don't write humor, that's the jurisdiction of my paramour, Thomas James Schecker, Jr.; I just notice what's hilarious in the human condition:  much easier and just as much fun).  And of course, observations on my spiritual progress through life, especially now that I am working as a practitioner of Daoist Acupuncture.  It's a very philosophical form of medicine, very poetic and very beautiful in addition to being very effective.  One has to self-cultivate with rigor in order to be a great medical practitioner in this style of medicine.  It requires the highest level of self-knowledge and the highest degree of compassion for each individual human being and their particular weaknesses.

Politics, humor and soul:  yes, I guess that's a pretty good summation of my interests.  If I hadn't had fibromyalgia for the past 17 years, I'd probably also write about the outdoors and my adventures in it.  But since that part of my life was pretty much ripped away by some virus yet to be identified (perhaps fibro is due to one of those new nano-bacteria they have discovered?), my outdoors adventures are pretty . . . uninteresting.  I will daub in the occasional critique of a film or TV show or opera or symphony performance.  Ah, yes, my previous life in music and theater.  Yum!  I've had a damn good life.  I truly have.

So, there you have it.  My new blog begins as of today.
"There's a party goin' on right here, A celebration to last throughout the years.  So bring your good times, and your laughter too.  We gonna celebrate your party with you.  Come on!"
Celebration.  Bis morgen, baby.

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