More talk of journalism

I just want to write. Ideally, I want to write in a way that yields money so that I can continue to write instead of doing things like mixing hiballs or pulling shots of espresso. School has ended and instead of putting my nose to a grindstone (AKA MacBook screen) searching for jobs, I’ve sort of just been reveling in this newfound existence of mine.

This is the envelope that my first freelance checque came in. I will remember it always, for its crumples and tears.

I’ve now conquered four years of post-secondary. Much of that schooling took place while I had two jobs. Now, I’m unemployed and out of school for the first time since getting my first real-ish job at the Saddledome when I was 15.

A discovery: In which I tweet in square brackets instead of on Twitter

I’ve been inhabiting an otherwise empty house for the past week and I think it’s had an effect on my tweeting habits. I stated officially (in an officious class presentation about Twitter) [I just learned the word officious.] that you shouldn’t be afraid to Tweet, because people following you are doing so because they enjoy what you have to say. [I abhor telemarketers who don’t leave messages. I would call back if they left messages.] Even so, I feel uncomfortable clogging up my channel with the fairly mundane narration of my life.

But having nobody to speak to while I am sitting at home lamenting my workload, or, conversely, while I am sitting at home feeling particularly inspired, has resulted in more tweeting. [Almost time to break out yesterday’s enchilada’s, methinks.] I’m a bit addicted to Twitter, I guess. It’s been dubbed micro-blogging, and I think that’s accurate. There’s still a chance to [why are there no synonyms for the verb version of craft?] articulate yourself intelligently, but you’re not as pressured to produce something substantial.

Maybe that’s the problem with me and Vegediblogging lately. I feel so much pressure to produce something that fits the criteria of my three blogging communities or even just something that I've made out of the blue, that I just put it off, put it off, put if off. In fact, I even made onion jelly for last month’s can jam, but still haven’t posted it.

This didn’t start out as a post to relinquish me from my posting duties. But I think this quasi-stream of consciousness has led me to the point where I needed to come. I’m a word addict and I do love blogging, but I have to find a way to make it work for me.

Let’s try this: I’ll start blogging things other than recipes (but recipes too!) that reflect me a little bit more. Things like my burgeoning pipe dream [gosh, pipe dream sounds a lot like pipe bomb. Wondering about the etymology of the phrase] to sell mustard at the farmer’s market across the street, or links to other food and journalism blogs that entice my taste cells and brain buds.

Yes, let’s try that.

(PS: I was totally going to post photos but Photoshop keeps freezing when I do simple things like press file + open. Sad.)