With hot and cold running wifi again, I figure it’s time to pick up this habit again. I still haven’t made it to one hundred days in a row. It’s been a while since I did thirty. That’s the first goal.

I downloaded all my old entries and went through them. There was some good stuff in there. But it’s all stuff like this. A lot about what I was writing and trying to write. But I found a few pieces that I could extract and clean up and post as actual essays. The thing I wrote after I saw Falstaff and Henry V was good. Sam called it brilliant. Because here, I write with a very different style. I write just to write.

You read those essays that came out of 750words, and they’re much more conversational than what I usually write. But this is what I should regularly write. This is what I should write every day and post once a week. Oh! Yes. I like that idea. Write every day, then on Saturday, pick something to post to Tumblr. Maybe Squarespace, if it’s a particularly good essay.

I really want Tumblr to be the place where throw things without thinking about it. I collect quotes from books I’m reading, photos I’ve taken, and just things I like to look at. If I still love something a month later, then it’s worth posting it to my new Squarespace site, my new name dot com. I’m gonna call it jd.com because that’s easier and shorter.

I’m starting a new blog, yes, but not really. It’s an archive. I’m not getting rid of factsarenothing. It’s almost been five years. That’s amazing to me. And that’s five consistent years. I’ve never taken a break from Tumblr the way I’ve taken breaks from Livejournal and Twitter. I’ve wanted to post to Tumblr. I love posting to Tumblr: the ease of use, the templates, the user interface, the iPhone app. I love how it removes all the friction.

Of course, I can’t say I don’t think about posting because I think about everything. I take everything seriously, especially that which people think is ridiculous. Because there is a larger story that I’m telling with factsarenothing.

My problem has always been too many interests. The paradox of choice. You’d think it would be great. “You can do anything with an English degree!” Yes, but you can also do anything. Which means you can also do nothing. I have to start trusting that any path I follow will be a good one. I’m pretty good at picking movies from trailers. I should get used to picking my life based on my dreams.

Here are the things I want: I want to write and publish, I want to sew, I want to bake. I want to be paid to do the things I love. I want to do my own thing, but not necessarily run my own business. The General Cafe really should be a magazine. About baking and ephemera? I like this idea of selling ephemera. I want to make simple cards and tags from found paper. I want to find a tag-shaped punch. I love that idea. Simple wheat paste recipe. Using leftover pieces of paper. Buying old used books and using the pages.

Ephemera even smaller. Ephemera as in lucky charms. Those origami stars. Knitted stars. The kinds of things that soldiers and travellers carry with them. Keychains, but less formalised than that. Like the trend of dangly things on cellphones. Something a girl would wear around her neck on a chain. Something you would carry in your pocket, touching again and again throughout the day, just to remind yourself that it’s still there. Beads, charms, decorations, buttons, pins, corsages, boutonnieres, tie pins, hat pins, rings, bracelets, hair ties, whatever you call the stuff we used to stick in the wheels of our bikes. I have three buttons on my bag, two on the lapel of my coat, a flower suspended in resin hanging from the zipper of my wallet, a Hello Kitty pin on my sweater. Sleeves for a hot cup of coffee, a wrist cuff, a headband. Saints medallions. Lucky coins. Worry dolls. A lock of hair. A flower pressed between the pages of a book. A locket. A tin-type. Your first dollar, framed above the cash register. The lucky cat. Tanuki. Bookmarks. Monograms. Silhouettes. Calling cards. Guitar picks. Bobby pins. Not just paper ephemera. It’s so much more than that.