I've decided to stay on typepad. The move would be such a pain in the ass, and I realized that I can just start a new blog under the wetfeet domain and password protect that one. When I post I can just link back to it here. Or not. Or whatever. We'll all figure it out. We'll manage.
In other words I've decided to stay where I am. You know when you realize that your fussing with the details when the big picture gets ignored? I know there's a more clever way to put that, but i can't think of it right now, the Windex has gone into my brain. But anyway. Fixing up the blog woulnd't fix my lack of direction and drive. Like putting icing on mud. It may look prettier, more snazzy and slick, but it's still mud.
I'm adding a tip jar, though. There goes the last of my pride. And probably a cafepress store too, in time for Christmas, so I can sell one, maybe two t-shirts. In addition to the "gentlemen prefer blondes" one, I want one that says "I look better on myspace" for the days when I look like I've been run over by a truck but my profile pic still rocks.
Anyway, the tip jar. I don't want it to be like I expect people to pay me for what I do here. But I want there to be an avenue for someone who has the urge to be generous to be able to do so.
I blog because I love writing and I love having people who read even my crappiest stuff. I've already been paid. But, y'know, single moms sometimes need money. And if someone wants to give me money, I'm going to make it easy for them. I'd love for blogging to be my job, but unfortunatly there are just too many of us for that to be viable. Writing is cheap on the interwebs.
My next order of business is to stir up some controversy because it's so fricken boring around here. Plus, my hits are in the cellar. My star, it is a fallin'. My statcounter cries.