It Shouldn't Be This Hard

That's not what she said. I just spent four hours trying to figure out how to fit text onto my header image so I could start this blog. Finally gave up and did it in photoshop, which is a small miracle in itself. You'd think I'd be a blogger by now, huh, the woman who made five issues of DonnaZine, each of which featured a diary story. But that was the nineties and when computers arrived I saw how laborious were my tools of scissors, glue and enlargement/reduction wheel so intended to make the switch. Little did I know how laborious it would be to do the simplest thing on the computer. And now I live in a town (Portland) where people are still doing it, proudly, with scissors, glue and reduction/enlargement wheels.


What I really want to say is that in exactly a month I'll be reading out of my junior high diary to a couple hundred folks at the Mission Theater. Since I don't seem to be able to live life without recording it, I thought this would be a good time to start this story. Ever since 5th grade, I've turned to my diary for comfort and companionship. Now that I'm all grown-up, I know that real people are good for that too. So maybe you'll hold my hand on the way to the show? It's not only teens who get angsty, right? And we might have a laugh or two.


Tonight I meet with Susan from Mortified, to sort through my "pathetic crap" in search of story.