This blog is moving

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I know, I’ve done this before — from WordPress.com to my self-hosted site, then back to WordPress.com. And now I’m doing it again. I’m moving this blog so it’ll be self-hosted again. You can find the new location here.

Why? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about “digital sharecropping.” Ie, putting my content on a site that’s not fully owned by me. And I’m becoming more and more uncomfortable with it.

Sure, this blog isn’t always well written; it’s about as moody as I am. But there is some good content here, and, more importantly, that content is mine. As time goes on I have become increasingly uncomfortable with hosting it at a place that doesn’t really belong to me.

I am using the WordPress.org software on my site and it’s enabled with Jetpack, so you should be able to follow me in your WordPress homepage. And, of course, email subscriptions will still be available, as will standard RSS feeds.

I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, but it’s really the best choice I could have made.

Update your bookmarks here.

Goodbye, WordPress.com. We had some good times. I’ll always remember you.

solong

-Katje

PS: This blog, here on WordPress.com, will stay up for a while, as I’ve still got the lengthy job of updating links to do. No idea when that will be done. But there will be no new posts here, so go to the blog’s new location to stay updated.

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When did I become old?

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I’m sitting at home eating dinner at a quarter to 11pm (which actually seems a reasonable time to eat dinner during summer; the sun just set) and wanting to go to the bar. Instead I’m eating salad. Salad of mixed baby greens and spinach with some bell peppers, and some of my Four Thieves’ Vinegar drizzled on top. (So, you know, not an “American Salad” that’s so covered in meat and thick dressing and croutons and cheese that it’s not really salad anymore, it’s a sandwich that tried to run away and was beaten for its transgression.) My drink is water (and some tea later). This whole meal is about 100 calories.

Mmmm, fibre.

Meanwhile I’ve got friends in Vegas drinking a bottle of $800 Cristal, and a friend in the UK who would gladly go to the bar with me if it weren’t for that damn geography. I’m 25; I’m supposed to be a hip jet-setter, going out with friends and traveling and hitting the bars and dancing my arse to pieces.

Instead I’m a shut-in. You know, being a shut-in means never having to wear pants, but killing means never having to say you’re sorry. Wait, no. That analogy got away from me.

My point is, I’m okay with being a shut-in, largely, because I prefer to be alone most of the time. But it’s becoming too much. I’m no longer the party animal I once was; hells I’m not even going out for coffee with friends as often as I used to.

This is what an injury can do to you. It can completely overturn your life to the point where you don’t recognize yourself when you look in the mirror anymore.

And yeah, I suppose a healthier lifestyle is, well, healthier, but it’s not that I’ve gone healthy but I still occasionally hit the bars or whatever. It’s that I’ve jumped from age 25 to age 95 in the past few months. Basic tasks exhaust me; I’m literally afraid of going out-of-doors; I shake my cane at kids and scream Damn youngsters, get off my lawn! when I’m at the mall.

I just got this new phone — the Samsung Galaxy Note. And it makes me feel so alive! This is the phone for my age, this is what I should be using while I’m out hitting the bars and dancing oh wait….

I just want to go to a bar so I have an embarrassing photo to take and upload drunkenly to Twitter. Let me be 25, oh gods of bodily health. Let this pain end.

PS: On the ‘being proactive’ front, I’m wrestling myself a physiotherapy appointment tomorrow. I’m not just bitching and whining to WordPress. I am trying.

PPS: I sort of can’t see because I spent all afternoon looking at a small screen. I may have an addiction.