Liveblogging Life

I have been eroding my own restrictions regarding what to post here—I think because my favorite blogs are the unfocused blogs that talk about what life throws at them in an interesting way. Though the subject-specific blogs are interesting, too, but those tend to be things that are a little more easily shared than mine. Anyway. My point is, I keep starting these blog posts about crap that doesn't matter and only tangentially relates to the writing life—recipes that worked out well or my feelings on a celebrity's passing or a movie review for something that's been out for two weeks—and I just stop. Because I don't want to be that guy. I don't want to be slinging my minutiae at you day in and day out, like Twitter with no character limit.

And then, I have days like today, where I dream about riding a tugboat to the Amazon Basin to save a woman who I think might have Katie Holmes from the vampiric Victorian dowager who wants to turn her into one of the walking dead; where I catch myself reciting John Malkovich's exercise routine from Burn After Reading in the shower; where I go to get my shoes from the corner where they dwell and get partway across the room before I realize I'm carrying one sneaker and one sandal; where I utter sentences like "I need to choose between going to the gym and shopping for a beholder"; and I start to wonder if maybe liveblogging my life would be such a bad thing after all.

And for the record, I did both. And the Hunan tacos were delicious.