I am an Internet magpie. “Oooh, pretty shiny things! Wheeeeeee!” My daughter walked by a few days ago and said, “Are you like me, you sign up for a free blog on every site that lets you, just because you can, and post for a while, and then stop writing?”

Well, yeah. Doesn’t everyone?

My mother, the Psych major, used to say that if you missed out on a developmental stage, growing up, you’d have to pick it up later, along the way. (I suppose this explains why you catch so many adults picking their noses at stop lights, but I digress.) I was never good at keeping a diary, when I was a kid. I loved those little books, full of blank pages, with their tiny locks and tinier keys. So full of promise! So full of secrets! So…blank.

Maybe the real problem is, I had no secrets. Seriously. I was an only child. I told my parents everything. I mean, who the heck else did I have to talk to? (I’m kidding. I had friends; there was nothing pathetic about growing up an only child. But I did talk to my parents – a lot – and they talked to me. They could spot a lie – and let’s be brutally frank, they were all over my “sins of omission,” too – so what was I going to write in a little blank book with an imminently pickable lock?) I’m not of the Jerry Springer generation; if I had any real secrets, my mother taught me better than to write them down. “Never put it in writing,” she said. “It’ll come back to haunt you!” Like, when you run for President. Or your husband does. Or your kids do.

Let’s get real. I’m never running for President. Life’s too short. My husband wasn’t born in the U.S., so I won’t be cutting his political aspirations off at the knees by exercising my First Amendment rights with vim and vigor. Hopefully, the man doesn’t ever feel the need to apologize for or be embarassed by his wife’s outspoken silliness. After all, “He’s not the boss of me!” And the kids? Well, let’s just say that if they haven’t enough spine and gumption to laugh at the media and say, “Yeah, that’s my mom for ya!” then they have no business running for public office – it’s a cruel world out there.

So I blog. And I’m still looking for the perfect little diary – the one with the cover that inspires daydreams, meaningful insights, and fictional stories that are juicy enough to warrant a lock and key, even if I choose to leave my journal open and lying on the bed for my curious (if imaginary) brothers and sisters to read.

I’ve moved forward, I think – I’ve begun making my own handmade “books.” My first customized, self-installed blog can be found at jahangiri.us/blog. Drop by and visit. Leave a comment (because I have a counter, and it’s a little creepy to see “597 hits” and NO COMMENTS). Seriously. Help yourself to the coffee, and if it’s out, make yourself at home and start a fresh pot.