A funny thing happened on my way to maturity — I had too much fun being immature. I kept thinking of being an adult and, in my mind, it was the same thing as being dull. So I refused the label of adult the same way I had once refused to be part of the crowd, with blind arrogance. And it got me nothing.
Then one day I stopped and looked around. I saw adults who were having fun, grown-ups who could teach me a thing or two about enjoying life and making my mark in the world. They were ROLE MODELS. And, after some hard knocks and soul searching, I accepted the fact that I had to grow up. I really had no choice. If I had to do it anyway, I should do it with style.
And I have.
That little story can be applied to this space of mine. One day, on impulse, I went to the information technology people at work and filled out all of the paperwork to make them give me some web space. I then proceeded to fill it up with one page where I could play around with design. It was a simple enough idea. I had the space, it was mine, and I could do with it whatever I wanted.
I used it to advertise myself. I know what you’re thinking, I do know . . . vain, selfish, egocentric. True, but that’s what I did.
I looked at what I had created a few months after I started up, without structure, without purpose, without identity, and decided to give it a little bit of order. I had been putting my words out there, blatantly ignoring any advice and comments on how to be better. Thinking of the site as something that was created for others was something I didn’t want to do. It was too serious. It was too adult. It too grown up. It wasn’t me. So I stopped and regrouped and approached the space from the eyes of a committed webjefa.
My site grew up.
Fast-forward one year. My little space is no longer entertaining, at least not to me. I keep trying to make it better by giving it window dressing and it remains stale. It became something I no longer enjoyed. In my desire to provide my readers with something that would make sense, I killed my interest in what I was doing.
I’ve tried to make it fun again, but I keep getting caught up in that serious spirit as if it were a virus or an infection that clings to me every time I opened the files. My solution is to shelve the old site and start fresh. This site is my fresh start. Please pardon the dust, the innovations and the new identity — giving birth to a new site is a tedious, loving, enthusiastic event that can go wrong or go right. But I intend to love every moment.