The navel gazing.

I wonder how many Blogs start out this way. With someone who wants to talk, share, laugh, cringe, amuse and be amused... in more that 140 characters and without including a survey on which fruit (pomegranate), XMan (Toad) or era (50's) they'd be.

I feel I need to sell myself, to convince you to be my bloggy friend and have adventures with me... but first things first. A list!

I'm at the start of several journeys;

• We're getting a puppy!
  
• My husband and I plan to start a family within the next 2 years. We're very organised, checklist kind of people. I'm curious how long this will last once we introduce a kid into the mix.
  
• I've started to make a concentrated effort to be fit again... this includes long walks to Joss Whedon, callanetics, jumping around like your drunk uncle to Zumba, and trying to do the splits.
• We're at the start of talks about renovating/extending our house (which we purchased a year ago).

Actually, should I have listed the family plans first? Maybe I should have rated these in order of importance, or in order of most life-changing, or most stressful and scary. But I didn't, so feel free to judge accordingly.

But I digress.

So what do I hope to achieve by blogging? I read other blogs and admire/envy the support, opinions and advice they elicit. I'd like to think I'm able to learn from others as well as share a little of my own experiences as they happen, or as they have shaped me. In my 28 years I'd like to think I've learnt some lessons and formed some opinions and an oft inappropriate sense of humour that help build the Anni you see before you. (or rather, read. We'll save my paranoia of photos-on-the-web for another day!)

I miss the heady days when Myspace was cool, when I maintained a blog and sprouted witty non sequiturs on life, love, the horror of housemates with a penchant for fake tan. Actually, while I'm thinking about it, I think my brain worked differently then... this could be due to age, or the fact that I was living in the tropics and synapses were a helluva lot faster... I'll let the jury work that one out.

So this may be a rather bland and uninspiring beginning - but with your help (and the excitement of day to day life!), we'll take the bull by the horns while not rocking the boat, or somesuch!

About Me Avoidance

I stress out whenever I see 'About Me' free type fields. How do you sum yourself up in a limited number of characters, trying to convey all the little quirks/passions/obsessions that make you you? The pressure we put on ourselves to be all things to all folk is really quite disturbing - trying to convey coolness, remoteness, transparency and privacy. Even being a dag is cool now - which is of great relief to all of us who had mile-high fringes in highschool.

Of course the whole 'about me' issue gets even worse once you decide to adopt a pseudonym (as I have), because then you spend your time conflicted between wanting to know and connect with people, and wanting to keep your real identity a secret. At the end of the day, as it is, if you knew me irl, and stumbled upon this, you'd probably recognise me. I type like I talk, I like what I like, and I can't be bothered trying to hide my gender/preferences/beliefs/love of all things green.

And why do I even have a pseudonym, you might ask? I think I like the back door it provides, the ability to say what I think and feel without the potential for embarrassing others (any more than I have. I love you, Mum). It could also be a result of being stalked in highschool - I think every girl should be stalked at least once to teach her the value of privacy and the dangers of exhibitionism.. Just imagine how much more palatable sites like myspace and facebook would be if we'd all had a nice little injection of paranoia at an early age.

Not that I'm advocating stalking, despite what I've just written... but I can't help but recognise how much safer I've been as a result, taking care in my overseas rambles and on night-time excursions to always look after myself.

Speaking of rambles, forgive my tangent. I'm forever letting them show in public and I apologise.

You know what? I'm going to publish this. Because I can. And because you might think I'm cool, and one day we'll meet irl and you'll realise that no matter what weezer/harry potter/chuck say, some dags really are sheep droppings.