I have the sweetest and most supportive fiance in the whole world. (Yes, yes, please take a trashcan and puke). Internets, he was bragging yesterday to my parents about the magazine gig, and how many hits I have on my other blog. I wasn’t going to tell them about the magazine until it was actually up, running, and ranked, but the Fiance was just too excited. He waxed on about how gifted a writer I am, how happy I seem to be when I write, and how much he hopes this pans out into a full time job for me. (Yeah, he and I both!) The latter means a lot coming from someone who not only earns rings around me, but whose family is so rigidly corporate that, in their eyes, not working in Industry X or Y automatically classifies someone a loser.
Then of course, ensued the conversation with my 50-something Dad reassuring him that yes, you can access most Internet sites from any computer. Is he a dumbass who did too much acid in the 60s? Not even close; he was Phi Beta Kappa and an Ivy League valedictorian in the 70s, and started a very successful (non-dot com) business in the 90s. Gotta love that generation.
What with staying out late, though, I got all of 400 words written yesterday. Oops.
