As I said: Egg. Salad.

By hand, one "copy and paste" at a time, I transferred my old blog entries to this site. I think I'm finally ready to delete my Myspace account; the only thing that has kept me from doing so has been the desire to preserve my bitching, musing, and quirkiness that dates back to 2005. Now, at Blogspot, they are preserved. Hence, goodbye to Myspace.

And now I feel ready to reactivate my blog impulse. I have to keep myself so edited on Facebook now because my mother, aunt, co-workers, and various theatre people I hardly know (some of whom are still in high school) are all included in my network of friends. This is fine because, really, I should be conscious of all that I put out to the world wide universe. But maybe I can start again on this blogging on a completely different site and share the link with only the people I choose. This list, which will be fractionally shorter than my Facebook friends list, will not include any boys I'm dating or interested in dating. Otherwise, how can I talk about them??

The current thing that bothers me about living at home: getting asked what I'm cooking/eating. Today for example, I enjoyed a quiet morning to myself as my mother was at church, my hermana was at a friend's, and dad was at his office. I drank coffee, read the paper, wrote e-mails, and started making some egg salad to take for lunch tomorrow.

At 12:45, I hear the garage door. In they all tumble, and within five minutes I get:
Cinty - "Are you cooking, Mer?"
Mom - "Did you find the eggs? You're not using Gran's recipe? It's a good one."
Dad - "What are you making there, M?"

Me - "Yes. Egg salad."
Me - "Yes. No, not this time. Okay, maybe next time."
Me - "Egg. Salad."

But then I deposit more money into my bank account and I think, "The rent I paid is nothing compared to the rent I'm saving." And I carry on for another pay period.