Uh-oh. It's one of those nights where I would love to be asleep, but can't manage to block out the million things running through my head. Today I was in total denial that classes are starting Tuesday. Spent much of the day watching bits of the Isaac show on Style, some soccer, Ice Diaries on TLC (follows four ice skaters--I'm as much mesmerized by their dedication to the sport as by their yicky outfits), and the AKC National Championships where I totally teared up when they highlighted special dogs--ohmigod! I saw commercials for Puppy Bowl II on Animal Planet. I found a sneak peek video clip on the website and the concept seems to be pups playing and wrasslin' and all sorts of mischief (and if you don't like dogs, there's a Kitty Half Time Show). Strangely very watchable in its utter innocence and fun (reminds me of a recent visit to Guitar Center), although I feel vaguely like Seinfeld's Elaine when she stares at a tire (she's getting dumber as George gets smarter 'cause he's not having sex). I know what my TV will be tuned to come Superbowl Sunday.

As for more Sunday highlights, I experienced the (most recent) nap-to-end-all-naps and set up my new desk lamp.

The party is pretty much over for me, however much I try to forget what day it is. In the flurry of productivity that ensues, I hope this blog doesn't fall through the cracks. I had such, gee I don't know, high aspirations (??) when I started Ness and Filomena. I should spend more time on making my entries __________ (pick one: witty, inspirational, poetic, thought-provoking, sexy, political--even the most basic "interesting). Maybe I could just muster enough effort to add good links to the new template...I'm trying to determine what I want from the blog and not totally sure I really want anything from it. The initial idea was to start writing on a regular basis bits and pieces of how I experience and view my life and also throw in pictures of my undeniably precious Filomena because she's just so darn cute.

This question of purpose has plagued me since I read an article on women bloggers in January's Glamour. The article first asks, "Women who blog?: Are they self-absorbed exhibitionists? Groovy free spirits? Or just plain bored? Meet them and decide for yourself." According to Mark Crispin Miller, professor of culture and communication at NYU (a male perspective on women bloggers, hmm), "There is something going on where we must always be on display--it's the rise of the look-at-me culture." The author (non-blogger perspective on bloggers, hmm)agrees with Miller: "Blogging, it seems, is the reality TV for the deskbound crowd." Oh, really???? So my blog persona is akin to a cyber-Simple Life? God, I hope not.

I don't see myself as deskbound (which sounds so darn pathetic, no?), a self-absorbed exhibitionist, groovy free spirit, or (to sum the profiled bloggers "identities") someone who overshares, blogged during a honeymoon, performs for her readers, or has gotten in work-trouble for my blog. PLUS, it doesn't feel right to agree with the assertion that my blog is an attempt to be "on display/look at me", and if it were, considering my low readership, I'm failing miserably. Only one profiled blogger who was remotely relatable reportedly initially talked about body issues and, it turns out, writes for an awesome magazine, Bust.

I don't know what I expected; the article is published in Glamour, for chrissake.

I recently read an essay arguing that young people have adopted the language and identities of the Real World. G. used to hate Seinfeld because he felt that people tried to emulate the show (ex. yada, yada, yada)(one of my favorite Family Guy episodes is where Peter has a pool party for dictators and Qadaffi says he loves Seinfeld because it reminds him of his friends. Classic). Anyway, the point is maybe I have absorbed elements of pop culture that emphasize self-classification--maybe the blog is a way to work out if I'm a Mary/Rhoda, Carrie/the other ones, (sigh) deskridden or whatever. That's a part of it, but my blog also comes out of the opportunity/novelty of publishing thoughts and have them read by anybody who happens to stumble upon them. I don't pretend my voice should or ever will be the authority on something, so why feel pressured to be identifiable?

I think I might be going in circles. It's late, too, sleep might have finally come.