When I logged in to le ol’ lush, WordPress informed me that I had a draft. Here it is:

Today’s Words:
ineffable
immortal
saucy
submerge
trance
roast
governess

‘Tis ineffable glory, this immortal trance.

* * *

Eh. Whatever.  I don’t feel so ineffable or glorious lately. My immortal soul has been entranced (perhaps submerged?) in grubby, lovely, money.

I spent several hours yesterday comparing ad-serving software to use on my various sites. (don’t worry, the lush wilst not see such a think grace its pretty little shoulders. mostly because nobody would buy the ads anyway). The winner so far is AdMan. I wish it was AdWoman, but what are you going to do?

Emily and I brainstormed last night that I could write and e-commerce guide for women. Woman to woman, here’s how it goes.

It’s not so much that it’s different for men or women, except that it is. Women think differently- I think they are smarter. There, I said it.

And yet, they often think they are dumber. Which is why I want to write a guide for them. To say hey, actually, I’m a woman, and looky here. You can do all this. And make moola. And be smart. And there you go.

I’m sitting here munching on my chocolate croissant and contemplating visiting my hometown again, with Emily. I review in my head the various characters we might encounter. My old high school teachers. The kids from my class who never left Myrtle Creek, who stayed in place and spawned.

I want to name them, but the internet being what it is, highly searchable, they might come across their name and that would be embarassing.

I have only had a few friends visit my farm. Amy, and her entire family, once showed up because they were in the neighborhood, on a road trip. (They are the kind of family who take long trips to national parks together. In a mini-van. With actual seatbelts.).

I never know, when I go back, what will be different about the farm.  My dad periodically:

a) acquires more dead cars

b) sells old cool things he has collected over the years to buy groceries

There is also the perrenial battle with the blackberry bushes, which will take over an area lickety split.

Then there are natural disasters and weather-related changes, like fallen trees, changes in the course of the creek.

So, it’s like a whole new farm each time for me as well.

Blah blah blah. OK, I’m boring myself here, time to get back to making moeny. Ah, money.

I worry sometimes that I’m starting to miss the point of life. I so enjoy the game of making money, and yet, I often have a hard time spending it.

I do notice that I feel sad when my stocks go down, because I worked hard to save all that money, and then it’s just, overnight, worth a whole lot less. But, hark, I’m sure it will come back. In fact, now is the time to buy. Before Obama gets elected and people go on a spending frenzy of Hope and Change.

Oh yes, my confession. I will do it here, at the end of a long string of blather, and maybe no-one will see it and flame me: I didn’t vote for Obama. I voted for Cynthia McKinney. She’s black and she’s a woman. So there.

And don’t even go off on me. I know Obama will win. And I still think our two party system is fucked, and I’m sick of being fed glossy pablum. “Hope. Change. Hope. Change.” BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. Here’s a beer and some Prozac.

Oooooohhh no. I got all fired up writing that that I had to Tweet it. Cringing inside. Hope nobody bitch-slap tweets me. Oh well. You know what ? I got a mind! I’m gonna speak it! Isn’t that the point?