Just when I finally felt like blogging, the power trips on my computer and deletes the post I was typing ten minutes ago. Damn. Have to start over.
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Quoted from Blogger's news page:
U.S. News: "One vote here in favor of the blogging revolution. Bloggers (from the words 'Web log') write online diaries and commentaries. The best bloggers weigh in on social and political issues, report nuggets of information that the national media miss or suppress, and provide links to other bloggers with something sharp to say."

When I set up this blog back in October of last year, I never intended it to be nerve-wracking and all so serious. I never intended my blog to be the best, much less the most famous. I believe I've posted only one thought-provoking and intellectual post here, and that was back in January. Had I possessed greater proficiency with HTML and all its idiosyncratic protocols, I would've learned to do so much with my plain-vanilla blog. Had I learned to put up a Web counter to know just how many people visit this little page regularly, I won't be surprised if I return just a mundane number of hits. Just how many people know me anyway, as myself or as my online alter-ego?

I'm happy with my blog just as it is. Granted, if Web page layout were as easy as using Adobe PageMaker or InDesign, I would've relied less on Blogspot's templates and created my own very slick-but-static page. (Then again, there's that Java and Flash/Shockwave bullshit I have to contend with. Not willing to learn that anymore.) But I'm cool.

This page has been something meaningful to me and to my closest friends. It soothes me from my unhealthy constant hunger for attention. People I've never even met in person have written to me about my less-than-rational thoughts, some criticizing, some praising, some simply forgetting that my page possesses a certain Blogspot URL. The dearest people to me actually know what I'm doing because of it.

Okay, enough about that. I'll shut up.
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Pam texted me just as my mom's friends were over for a little lunch party here.

Normally people avoid texting me unless it's something they need or have to tell me, so my cell phone is usually extraneous and just there for emergency purposes. As time passed, though, we were talking about a lot of things -- watching the Karate Kid over Coyote Ugly, her appointment with her orthodontist, my hyperacidic stomach remedied by green tea, and how Matt LeBlanc used to be a personal obsession. Before I knew it, we'd spent twelve intermittent hours texting each other...and that is a personal first.

All summer long, I've been chasing my high school and college friends for just a little uninterrupted chat on the phone, and I've largely been either left out cold or on the wrong trail(s)/phone number(s). I wonder how much more boring my summer might have turned out if I hadn't had Pam as my friend. Thanks a lot, Ate. It really means a lot. Given the chance, I would really hug you.