prev dear reader next
2001-10-23 | 1:43 p.m.

Since Diaryland is in a pinch, I bought some extra banner advertising and maybe you should too? It's only $15, gold members.

I was going to try to make a new banner, but of course I have no talent for it. When I looked at it again, this one seemed rather timely and topical, though I made it months ago. So I decided to revive it for another run.

The other day I saw a job listing that seemed like something I could do. The company is looking for an editor to update a web portal. Telecommuting. Perfect, right? I've done this kind of work before. The only thing was, the sole topic of the portal is s*x. (I use the asterisk not because I'm a prude---though in many ways I am---but to stymie the drooling Googlers.) But what do I care? I'm not hung up about s*x. My house may not be a pleasure palace, and the only latex around here is used for dishwashing, but coupling is achieved by consenting adults. Despite domestic obstacles. Post-coital smiles are exchanged. No one is faking the O. That ought to be enough for editorial purposes, I think.

But. When the employer called this morning, curling his words in the Italianate style (think Rowan Atkinson in Rat Race), it emerged that I would have to do some marketing as well. Just approaching sites and setting up e-commerce partnerships. And was I willing to do that? I said, "Ye-eee-eah," which any astute listener of me would recognize as a resounding No. So I made an appointment to meet with him that I have no intention of keeping.

Because I don't do money. I'm sorry, I just don't do money. Don't ask me, cause I won't.

S*x, no problem. Money---can't do it. I've done it, and I'm done with it. Thank you very much.

Don't worry, though. I'll call him and tell him I'm not coming. I won't just stand him up.

It's probably dumb to walk away from such a gig, because even though it sounds totally sleazy (there are only 2 employees so far; the guy wanted to meet me in a hotel lobby---er, haven't you ever heard of a coffee shop?), it's sex-related and therefore could make a mint. But what the hell. I'm not about money, am I? I've had other chances to make money. There will be more.

Anyway, the thing is, I've really been thinking hard about a book I want to do. I think I'm really ready. I'm just going to do something simple, and not try to out-do anyone else or impress anyone. Just do my thing, something personal, about being in my situation. Me, a mother, who wants to achieve something meaningful, but is hampered by various issues and problems, not least of all her own ineptitude, and so on. Other women are living similar lives, and some of them are also writing about it, and now I will too, and not worry about being a copycat or anything like that. And I am going to accept that the thing will get criticized, and it will deserve to be, because it won't be perfect. But it will be something--I CAN make something and get it published in book form, and it won't be perfect, and that's okay! (I know I sound exactly like Stuart Smalley, which is unfortunate, but hopefully that won't come through in the book.) All I want to do is write something that people will enjoy. That sounds pretty obvious, but believe me, it's a real breakthrough for me. And of course I want you all to help me because you know everything. Almost everything. Nobody else reads me like my Diaryland friends. I mean, well, nobody else reads me, period.

I love you, man!

prev archive next
0 comments