The monkey began to type...

First of all, it should be noted that I realize that chimpanzees aren't monkeys. But if Coca Cola can get away with a smaltzy ad campaign featuring polar bears socializing with penguins despite the fact that they reside on separate ends of the planet, then I think my little primate faux pas should be allowed. Besides, I'm not selling anything. And it's funny.

Second of all, I have to acknowledge that this exercise, this online journaling of sorts, feels a lot like an amusement park ride for the ego. Wondering where should I put the twists and turns, the slow steep climb and the yeehaw free fall. Do I write for my loved ones? Do I write for myself? Do I write for the "infinite unknown reader?" Is anyone ever going to read this darn thing? I do not think it's a coincidence that the words diary and diarrhea are so similar. They are both about getting stuff out. Sometimes unexpected, often urgently.

I suppose that's what I'll be using this for. It may vacillate between whimical musings and trivial rants and soap box tirades, but hey, it's my ride. You can get on or get off whenever you want. Just keep your hands inside at all times.