Nobody Knows Anything

Welcome to Diane Patterson's eclectic blog about what strikes her fancy

Ten years: that went fast

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Ten years ago I thought Sage’s online journal (note: Quirky Nomads is just the latest incarnation; there have been many) was the coolest thing ever, and since I was going off to grad school, I’d keep one to keep my friends up to date on everything I was doing. So I started one, modeled after hers. I went to grad school at USC, studying screenwriting. Then I graduated, wrote about some of the things I was doing after graduation. I took a break from writing online at the end of 2000 to 2002. And now I’m back. The voice has changed, the experience has changed, but it’s still fun.

A lot has happened in the past ten years, of course, most of which has probably been mentioned on this page.

We used to use Mozilla. Then Netscape. When Internet Explorer started up I said, “But Netscape has the market sewn up.” This is why I’m not in business forecasting. Now my husband is the manager of Safari. The Web: I’ll never escape.

We used to handcode our entries! For those of you who have no idea what that means, we did all the HTML ourselves. No Blogger! No Movable Type! Hell, even BBEdit didn’t do a lot back then. No, seriously, we did it all by hand. There was no other way to do it.

RSS? You jest. CSS was maybe just getting started (but not even then, I think).

Many of the online diarists knew one another! Or at least had exchanged emails. I remember when Open Pages — remember the Open Pages webring? Hahaha — passed one hundred members and I thought that was a lot.

I used to keep a list of diaries that had been going at least a year, because then people who were looking for a lot of content to read would have something to find. I can’t even imagine attempting anything like that now.

Internet newsgroups used to be available only via newsreaders, and you had to get a feed from your provider. Now I think Google is the only place to get newsgroups. And because Google provides no way to ignore certain topics and posters, newsgroups are now completely useless. But that’s okay: everything else is available on the Web.

Despite the length of time since I first wrote it, Why Web Journals Suck is still relevant. I can barely believe it myself.

Over and over again there’s been the pattern of there being a group of very popular writers/bloggers. There are far more not-as-popular writers/bloggers out there who continually ask what they have to do to be one of the Kool Kids. I don’t know to become one of the high-trafficked sites — in fact, given the precipitous fall of my traffic, I’m sure I should just shut up — but here are some tips that I’ve seen work for people. (Note: all of these are not required, but you’ll need at least some.)

  • Talk about sex.
  • Post naked pictures.
  • Have lots of fresh content. Post at least once a day, although it’s better to post even more frequently than that. That way, readers have to keep tuning in to see if you’ve got anything new.
  • Have a topic you’re known for. Specialization of blogs has happened way more in the past five years, but having a theme, an area, is a good way to be known. Political blogs, art blogs, bicycle blogs… there is something out there for everyone.
  • Write a sex blog and you’ll have more traffic than you know what to do with.
  • Be an engaging writer. Sorry, can’t help you out with that one if you’re not already. But practice does, in fact, make perfect, so get writing.
  • You can be a terrible writer if you have a sex blog. Just make sure you spell all the body parts right, so readers know what’s going in where.
  • Have a point of view in your writing. Let people know where you stand on issues — not just political issues (although, as you get older, you realize everything is political, so the sooner you get involved, the better), but on movies, on music, on scenery you pass by every day.
  • When your readers respond, engage them. (Yes, I know I fall down on this quite often.) The blogging format, with attached comments, makes this much easier. (We used to just get mail, you see.)
  • Did I mention sex?

I haven’t tried video blogging and podcasting, but all the same rules apply there. Except those forms are even harder because you’ve got to have skills in more areas than just writing — video and audio need to be entertaining in and of themselves.

(Writing those tips reminds me of one of the funniest interchanges (from my point of view) I’ve ever had. In Why Web Journals Suck I wrote that you shouldn’t have a depressive journal — that is, every single damn entry shouldn’t be filled with doom and gloom because, frankly, no one cares and what you have to do is do something about the situation, not just wallow in it by writing about it. I got a letter from someone wanting to know why I was talking about her, because she was very popular, yadda yadda. You know the punchline, of course: I’d never heard of her. I had run across a couple of other depressive journals and that’s what had inspired me to write that, not this chick. Ah well.)

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Ten years ago I couldn’t imagine having kids.

Ten years ago I drove an Acura Integra. Shortly thereafter I got a Mercedes M-class SUV. A week before Simon was born we got rid of the Mercedes (oh happy day! calloo callay! what a PITA that thing was) and got a Honda Odyssey. I’d like to go down to nothing, but the Odyssey is way better than what I had.

Ten years ago I had dreams of having a gigantic house on a gigantic piece of land somewhere, because that’s what you do when you move up the food chain. These days, I can’t imagine anything I’d like less. There are definitely times I’m annoyed with the size of the house we currently have, although the location makes up for everything: we have neighbors! I can walk places!

Ten years ago I was pretty sure how my life was going to turn out. These days, I haven’t a clue: I can try to guide it, but for the most part I just try to enjoy.

What’s weirdest in looking back at some of my entries is reading something and thinking, “Did I write that?” I have no memory of doing some of these things, let alone writing about it. The writing seems very different from the way I write now, although I guess that is to be expected.

I have met some truly fabulous people in the past ten years as a result of writing my journal. I believe I have inspired a few journals/blogs as well, although I never kept track of which ones.

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Thank you for the wonderful words, Pooks!

That rain? My bad.

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Recently we’ve been on a home improvement kick. We’re seriously thinking about remodeling the kitchen and all four bathrooms (and now that we’ve got a ballpark figure of how much that would cost, we’re…still thinking about it, but not exactly diving into the idea). While we were at the San Jose Home and Garden show, we bought some vintage European posters to hang up — I slightly freaked out at the price, but Darin said, “It’s not like we’ve maxed out our home decoration budget.” Or had one at all, in fact.

One of my big pet peeves was the ratty shed on the side of the house. It was small, and it was dark, and it had a giant hole in the roof, and we’d had how much rain this winter? We have no garage. We needed a bigger shed that wasn’t a collection area for rainwater and tree branches. Next to the shed was a dog run area with a tiny little dog house and lots of fencing. We don’t have a dog, and the fence made it hard to get in and out of the area.

I called Mr. Handyman to have the shed, dog run, and fence taken down. And I called 1-800-Got-junk to haul the detritus away.

Of course, first I had to take everything out of the shed. Which I did. The bicycles, the moving boxes we still haven’t unpacked, lots of old paint cans (from the previous owner), and a saw (ditto). Since we have no garage, I put everything alongside the house — it would be fine there, because after all: the rainy season is over, right?

That rain last weekend? My bad. Who knew I’d found the exact steps of the 21st century rain dance?

The second half of the dance was completed with the party for Simon’s fourth birthday. I had rented the picnic area at the park two or three months ago, in order to get the spot right by the playground. Invitations went out during the heat wave of two weeks ago.

Then, last Friday: drizzle. I heard rain was forecast for Sunday. We were at an outdoors birthday party Friday afternoon, and the drizzle didn’t bother the kids one bit.

A little rain wouldn’t bother a bunch of four-year-olds. I plowed ahead with my plans.

The first half of the party was fine — overcast, a little drizzly now and then, but the kids seemed to be having fun.

Then, when it came time for the food, it started to rain a little harder. I had bought a lawn tent at Walgreen’s, thinking, “I won’t need this! I’ll just return it after the party!” Well, we hauled it out and set it up over the food table.

simonbday.jpg

And not a moment too soon: the rain started coming down in buckets. The kids were around the picnic table, and the parents huddled around them. I hope it’s the kind of situation everyone looks back at and laughs. Either that or I’ve just ruined Simon’s chances for social advancement at his preschool.

partyrain.jpg

(A poster the kids decorated was on the table. Within a minute after this shot the washable paints had totally washed away. Ah well.)

My Friday evening

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My Friday evening was spent:

with a whole bunch of other moms

drinking champagne

and wine

and Cosmopolitans (full strength)

and Lemon drops

and port (my contribution, which a few women wanted some of)

and having discussions of lives

and marriages

and divorces

and sexual attraction to Donald Rumsfeld (no, not me, thank God)

and how hot Keanu Reeves really is and Mel Gibson really isn’t

and episiotomies vs. C-sections

and selling houses

and when the last time anyone had Girls Night Out was

and we all had a lot of fun

and it was a little weird hearing someone say that she didn’t think I’d liked her (not that again — what is it I do to make people think that?) but she was glad to find out I really am a fun person.

Wow. Am I toasted.