Seen you on Aldebaran, safe on the green desert sand
I need to pause a bit in the endless recounting of events that happened weeks ago because of one of those wonderful things I noticed looking at my profile page: today's is my two thousandth entry on this journal. Since I've kept very nearly scrupulously to publishing exactly one entry per day this means I do have a nice two-thousand-day stretch of consistently posting at least a couple of paragraphs of whatever happened to be on my mind. (It doesn't disillusion anyone, I hope, to mention that I usually write these up ahead of time, usually a couple days ahead but if I've got a really good theme I've been as much as a week ahead of ``deadline'', except for the humor pieces. Those, well, I try to write early but deciding what to write about is really hard.) It's not always necessarily interesting to anyone but myself, and sometimes I wonder what I was hoping for in writing some of the stuff I've seen, but I still feel accomplished for reaching the goal.
Originally I hadn't figured to make it a daily compulsion. My intent was just to get something like a hundred or so entries in on something very like a schedule so that the journal wouldn't be one of those where you run across an old friend, are delighted that he has a journal, and find that there are only six entries, the last of which is ``whoops, sorry I haven't updated this in five months'', and that was two years ago. That it turned into an unstoppable compulsion or my own little un-monetarizable daily essay was probably inevitable, but I never really act on my knowledge of just how I'll behave ahead of time when it would be useful.
There aren't any grand dedications of where I want to take the journal in the future. For now I'm just amazed enough that I have stuck to it for two thousand days with just a few complications (I've missed and backdated a few entries where Livejournal or my ISP was gone for critical hours; and I did shift to my just-after-midnight schedule by posting two entries, one before and one after midnight, without my having gone to bed in-between; and I've freely used time zone gimmicks to my advantage). My only real regret is that I didn't start the journal a year earlier, which would have given me the chance to record my thoughts of the SARS crisis in Singapore as I was living through it, as that may be (with luck) the most exciting mass public event I'll be on the scene for. Instead I have copies of e-mails sent friends and things I wrote after the fact, which isn't as interesting. But if I'd done that I'd be well past two thousand entries by now, and then what would I have to write about today?
Trivia: 18 July 1969 was also the third anniversary of Apollo 11 Command Module pilot Michael Collins's first spaceflight, on Gemini 10. Source: First On The Moon, ``Written With'' Gene Farmer, Dora Jane Hamblin, and trying very hard to pass itself off as written by the Apollo 11 astronauts.
Currently Reading: The Discovery of France: A Historical Geography, Graham Robb. By the way, this is a neat book, and it makes me realize how unimaginably tiny most science fiction worlds are.