I spent my early evening reading "Poet's Market",about a world of places to submit poems. I like the way that each magazine's guidelines can be so different than another magazine's guidelines. "Publishable poetry" is so often a matter of finding a magazine whose taste is like one's own. I decided that rather than thinking about poetry, I would write a few poems, and did so in the side journal I maintain for this purpose. Today I read old entries in my weblog, and old comments I made in other weblogs. Weblog entries I remember as being from long ago I find took place only a year or less ago. Each day of a weblog is like a year in junior high school. I played chess at the Free Internet Chess Server, but my play was in the main uninspired. I seem to tread water at a very mediocre level in my on-line blitz chess. I admit that three minutes per side per game is not my best playing tempo.
I'm thinking sheepishly about how opinionated I am, but mutton-headedly insisting to myself that this is just part of who I am.