I’d like to eventually export all of the posts from FTLOG and move them here, with their own category. While I can find all kinds of info about *importing* into wordpress, I’m not finding much about exporting — or importing from WP to WP, for that matter.
Any hints or suggestions?
I hate this theme. Guess I’ll be doing another K2 redesign soon. *sigh*
Okay, looking at it again, it’s redeemable. But damn, it’s going to take a lot of work.
Hmmm…this feels a little more warm and cozy. We’ll stay here for a bit (as temporary housing) while I build a permanent residence.
Alrighty then…on to K2. Pardon the dust again; it’ll take a while to find all of the parts that don’t “go.”
If you’re here, it’s likely (at this point, at least) that you’ve wandered over from Oh, for the love of God… — my blog home until just recently (today, in fact). Give me time, and I’ll have some real content up here. If nothing else, I have all kinds of thoughts bubbling up about how it feels to be newly-married at the ripe old (read: set in my ways) age of 35.
.
What I expect this blog to be: As with FTLOG, IIWII (nice, eh?) will be my space for thinking aloud. Especially since I’m married to an introvert, I find that I often need to bounce things around for a while before even *I* know what I’m thinking. I expect my topics of conversation to be as eclectic as before, with perhaps an emphasis on current events, psychology/mental wellness, life as a parent, and life within a couple.
.
What I *don’t* expect this blog to be: Even though I am newly “out” as an ex-Christian, I’m not planning rants and complaint sessions about my former faith. What I might discuss, however, is the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) mind shift that I’m noticing as I view the world through a different paradigm. Let’s just say that the Christmas season has been eye-opening to me this year in many ways.
.
Another change: It’s possible — likely, even — that my husband will take up keyboard and contribute here and there. He takes no credit (or blame) for my writings, nor do I for his. We may be married, but we’re still most assuredly individuals!
.
However you’ve arrived, welcome! Have a seat — the sofa’s soft and warm. Enjoy a cup of cocoa…or a dark beer…or a glass of fine red…or whatever you prefer. After all, this is the virtual living room; the sky’s the limit for your virtual bar tab!
.
Finally, pardon the dust. Right now, I’m working with a chilly winter theme “out of the box,” which feels mightily appropriate, considering the 2 feet of snow that recently blanketed Santa Fe. Eventually, I’ll have something that looks and feels a little more like home.
hi·a·tus /haɪˈeɪtəs
–noun, plural -tus·es, -tus.
- a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, series, action, etc.
- a missing part; gap or lacuna: Scholars attempted to account for the hiatus in the medieval manuscript.
- any gap or opening.
- Grammar, Prosody. the coming together, with or without break or slight pause, and without contraction, of two vowels in successive words or syllables, as in see easily.
- Anatomy. a natural fissure, cleft, or foramen in a bone or other structure.
6. What I’m on for the time being.
I anticipate resuming blogging (for real y’all) sometime in January, after the honeymoon. Expect a little remodeling around here at that time.
To those who actually know me and call me — I have a new cell phone number. If you need/want it, drop me a line via email: meanderwithme (at) gmail (dot) com.
Spotted today: vanity license plate “SMPLIFY”
On a BMW X5. Whaaaa? Um, okay.
~~~~~
driving along a country-ish road in Arizona
Mike: Oh! That burns me up Did you see that church?
Me: No. What did it say?
Mike: “No Jesus. No Peace. Know Jesus. Know Peace.”
Me: (mildly confused) Right, and?
Mike: It’s an ultimatum, a threat. Join our particular brand of religion, or else we’ll kill you all.
Me: I don’t think it’s meant to come across that way. They’re talking about peace in your heart, peace in your life — not a threat for world domination. So, you’ve always thought it was a threat of “our way or we’ll wage war?”
Mike: Well, yeah.
Me: Hmmm. Guess I’d better blog that one. I’ve never thought of it that way before.
~~~~~
Public Service Announcement
The Mike whom I’m marrying next month wishes for me to clarify that he’s not the same person as the Mike who comments here on a regular basis. Just so ya know…
He reads (yes, he’s even read my early on gushing), but has yet to delurk.
(cross-posted at Maya’s Meanderings
Yes, I know — I haven’t posted in ages. I’ll start catching up before long, but this was just too good to not link.
~~~~~
Mary P. wrote a post that I wish I’d written — about parents’ attitudes toward their children and sex.
When I was a young married with a baby girl, our daughter’s father would joke that she wouldn’t be allowed to date until she was 35. Well, 30 if the prospective boyfriend was a member of the royal family. I’d laugh at his little joke, but it always annoyed me just a bit, though I wasn’t sure why. (The fact that it was feeble and repeated waaaaay too often didn’t help, but it was the actual content of the joke which bugged me.)
Not too long ago, some commenters on a blog I was visiting were speaking of the future dates of their infant girls. A couple of the daddy-types came out with the typical Big Protective Daddy comments. “The first guy to stick anything in her,” said one, “and I’ll stick something bigger into him.” (Charming, no?)
Here’s a thought that most parents of very small children don’t really understand:
One day, you will be the parent of an adult.
Go read the rest. Really, just go read it.
Still not wanting to? Okay, then I’ll tell you what sums it up for me:
Okay, now we’re coming to the crux of this post. Why did that stupid joke, why do those ‘protective daddy’ comments exasperate me so? Because they are based upon the assumption that females are passive recipients of sex. Females have no drives of their own, they have no sexual volition. They make no choices. If they are having sex, it’s because someone required it of them.
“My daughter couldn’t actually want to indulge with her boyfriend!” these parents wail. “It must be his idea, the filthy creep.” Well, I hope for your daughter’s sake that this isn’t true. I hope that the sex she has, happens when she’s ready, that it is joyful, respectful, mutually desired and mutually satisfying.
Just like you want for yourself.
***applause***
.
.
Once I hit 30, I began asking myself that question all over again. A few years later, I woke one day to realize that I simply didn't believe. For many reasons, I am a much happier (and more emotionally healthy) person having let go of god. There are still days that I wish god did exist. It would be a relief to relinquish responsibility to a greater power.
.
But, even better, I can see life for what it is, and work with reality. That's more powerful than any god could hope to be.