A manifesto of sorts

After a long day of volleyballing, I found myself at home with an open evening. Of the many things I could have done, I settled onto my couch and fired up the trusty old DVR, my new boyfriend. And my new boyfriend was very very good to me. Yesterday I took to filling him up with multiple movies I found on all the superfluous movie channels I have and never watch. And now I have Julie & Julia at my fingertips for always.

I love this movie so much; how about I count the ways for you: 1) Meryl Streep, 2) cooking in a Le Creuset, 3) Julia Child and her friends having highballs in the middle of the day, 4) the set for Julia Child's mid-century modern homes in Europe and everything in them, 5) the set for Julie Powell's tiny apartment in Queens and everything in it, 6) blogger turned published writer...

Okay, that last point I do love, but more than that, I find myself insanely jealous. Deep down, I really want to be a blogger turned published writer (and if we're being completely honest here, I'm also quite jealous of the all of the decor for the sets on this movie, but that's another story). And here's where I need to silence the inner-Gremlin reciting a litany of reasons why that is an insurmountable challenge. Reasons like, "everyone on the Internets wants to be published, what makes you different," "you are a small potatoes blog with a handful of readers, maybe," or "all the good ideas have already been taken."

And for those of you that are sitting there, composing your comments in your head telling me to silence Kathy (that's what I call the Gremlin), hold on just one second.

As with most of my posts, when I started this, I had no idea where it was going, I just sat down with the intent to start typing and hope that some coherent--and mildly entertaining maybe even funny, but mostly coherent--sentences would come together (now that I think about it, on a micro-level that's my approach to this whole blog: who knows where it's going, just start typing and hope for the best, oh, and minimal typos). So there I was, writing about how I'm in a relationship with my DVR and then all of the sudden I'm telling the Internets that I want to be a published author. And as I'm divulging the limits my Gremlin is imposing, especially that "all the good ideas have been taken," I start to think about the quote that a patent officer in the 1800s that goes something like, "everything that could ever be invented has already been invented." And being the diligent little blogger that I am, I did a little Internets search to find the direct quote and attributable information, only, and this is a big only deserving of all caps, ONLY that quote is a myth. THAT QUOTE IS A MYTH (and wow, that was one really long run-on thought).

This is important because my Gremlin is trying to keep me going down a path for mythical reasons. I mean they're only reasons not to only if I really believe they are reasons not to. All the good ideas aren't taken. Pshaw. Not everyone on the Internet wants to be published, and even if they do, not very many of them will do what it takes to make that happen. I'm pretty sure of that, and even more sure that I will. That makes me different. And someday, handfuls of readers maybe more will want to read what this potato has to say. Someday.

Writing a book is something that's always been on my short list of "very important things I want to do," the list that has included the following items: buy a house on my own, perform on stage in a musical, and qualify for the Boston Marathon. Seeing as Kathy hasn't kept me from accomplishing those challenges, something tells me it's time to break out the duct tape and silence the Gremlin. Who knows when this will happen, but shutting Kathy up now will make sure that someday it does.

And becuase I just have to do this, although I'm not sure if it meets my intent of being coherent (but I'll be damned if it's not funny, at least it is to me), I must go back and quote my JV basketball sweatshirt circa 1992. Note to self: Body achieves what the mind believes.