meme (pronounced meem, not me-me. OK, so I'm probably the only one who thought it was me-me...): noun. - A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

Google meme; like that, but with Google.

Latest google meme; type "your name is", including the quotes but replacing your name with your name. Like, I typed; "amanda is" . (You've got to use the quotes, else you get the chiding from the Google; "is" is a very common word and was not included in your search.) Then you sees what comes up and you pops it (or as much of it as amuses you out of the possible 31, 100 hits) into your journal/blog/column/personal site/thingie.

Oh, right, one more thing.

Amanda is writing in her journal again.

Yeah, so for those of you following along in November, I sucked at NanoWriMo. The two beginning sentences were pretty much as far as I got with it. I did learn one very valuable lesson; fiction is not my thing. I'm too immersed in the column style, the slice of life, the journal, the blog. Real life is so much more entertaining to document than to think up twisty plots. I love to read fiction, nothing better to lose myself in a good book. Latest one devoured in a day, "Asking for Trouble" by Elizabeth Young, bought it on the recommendation of Robyn, well worth it, cracking good read. Very much in the Bridget Jones vein,without being a carbon copy.

One way this book is better than Bridget Jones? To be frank, the nookie scenes are really rather good. She's really captured the fizzing fun first times, and I pictured myself back to Jeff's first visit to Australia, Easter 1997, the first time we met in the flesh. This book gave me such a vivid sense memory of that first month of ours together (we broke the bed! I mean, literally, it was a slat put together bed, and it wasn't quite up to the suddenly increased demands on it. Jeff's very handy, fixed the bed with some bolts and a plastic clothes peg. Passed the re-breaking-in test with flying colours, sniggerchortlecorr...) , I just, as Sars puts it so aptly in this entry, flushed clear up to the roots of my hair. That entry? I'm a noddy doll/bobble head reading that, comPLETE agreement there.

So where'd I get to? In a nutshell, else I'll never get started again;

4 teeth out, one after cracking in two while still in my head (fucking OUCH), one sick to nearly dying cat, treated her cancer to the tune of $3000US (fucking OUCH), but she's alive with a more optomistic prediction than without the op (12 months maybe, as opposed to weeks or days), coding coding coding with the website work, every time I opened Dreamweaver and the journal template feeling like I was absolutely supposed to be coding someone being paid for. Still coming to terms with the work and the job left behind by the friend who was in charge of the non-profit theatre group and who drowned 2 years ago today and left Jeff and I and his Dad and the one other board member floundering and in charge of someone else's life dream.We've got more directors now, the burden is being lifted, this is a good thing. It doesn't seem like much, but it's the last 6-8 months of my life wooshed away without journalling. I missed it. I knew I missed it because I'd send all my stories out to people in email, bouncing off of their journal entries. I did have a journal, just it was written in emails and phone calls but I want to write it down. My stories, my journal, and if I've told them before, well, you've all forgotten them, it's been so long, so I get a do-over!

My biggest push to do this again, other than for me, well, that's in the next entry.

Updated 9 July, 2002

Copyright Amanda Page, 1996-2002