For the last few months I've been hearing a ringing in my ears. I first noticed it after spending the evening at a dance club wherein I caught myself on more than one occasion dancing in front of one of those giant 7 foot speakers as it blared 80's hits and I danced crazily to Pat Benatar and Billy Idol. Sometimes you just get so caught up, and there's just so many people gyrating next to you (and into you), that you pay less attention to where you are and more attention to keeping the strange creepy men (and women!) at bay. When I went home that night my ears were ringing, as they are wont to do after an evening of loud music (why is it I've always dated musicians?) and I went to sleep confident that the ringing would subside with the coming of dawn. And it did subside, but it did not go away, not entirely. I guess I didn't notice it right away, it's more a low hissing than an actual ringing, but when I did start to notice it I never stopped.

I waited a few months before making an appointment with an ear doctor. Part of me thought it would just go away, the other part of me just didn't want to make the trip to the doctor. But after two months of wondering when I would finally have silence, I made the call. Turns out I have tinnitus. A very nice man in a sweater vest gave me a hearing test and apparently I have lost the part of my hearing that is able to hear the highest possible pitch. He says that when something like that happens your brain sends feedback in the form of a perceived sound, in my case it's a low hissing. The doctors say that I'm lucky, that most people with tinnitus hear a fairly loud ringing that often times prevents them from sleeping. There are varying degrees of pitch and loudness, different tones and keys, whatever you want to call it all. Frankly, I just call it insanity. Who knew that millions of people suffered from this? After calling my mother I discovered that she too is part of the unfortunate lot and has had tinnitus since her 20's. She suffered from severe migraines for years and it turns out that all the aspirin she took to quell her aching head, gave her a ringing in her ears. Kind of a double standard that aspirin has, don't you think? I was always aware that my mother loves to play soft background music, usually some kind of Native American flute music, sometimes low chanting and drum music, I just never knew she did it so that she wouldn't hear that damned ringing that constantly served as her personal soundtrack to life.

Sometimes I forget that low hissing is playing in my ears. But when I catch a glimmer of its even unwavering melody, I can't NOT hear it. There are brief moments when I think I'm going mad. I cover my ears with my hands but to no avail, it's in my head, it's in my head, it's in my head.

Is the medium of the "Blog" dying? I'm beginning to think so. In an effort to update my blog today, so you would no longer have to look at me walking my kitty cat, I stuttered and stalled on a topic to write about. There's quite a bit happening in my life right now, lots on my mind and brewing in my soul, but it seems like everything that has the potential for a blog post, I've recently Twittered or Facebooked about. Of course those updates are clipped compared to the acres of field I have to fill on my website. They serve more as headlines to thoughts or experiences rather than the careful waxings on life and events that are cultivated with word precision and ample time and heart. But I suppose a point that's even more important, does anyone really even care what I blog about, or if I blog at all? I'm beginning to think the overwhelming response to that is a boisterous "NO!". We're all too busy reading status updates to bother with blogs. We're a generation with the attention span of a puppy.

I, myself, only read a handful of blogs anymore. There was a time when the list of blogs I visited daily was so long that I felt overwhelmed with the knowledge of these stranger's lives, I found myself wondering about them while walking down the street or riding the subway. Over time I lost interest in most of them, whittling the list down to a mere handful that I visit maybe once a week or at least whenever they're updated, which to be honest is less and less. And still, I probably read more blogs than most people I know. Hell, most of the people I know don't even read this blog, and I can spin a decent sentence if I try hard enough. Instead, people want to spend their Internet hours on Facebook, taking countless quizzes in what is either an effort to define their personalities for themselves and others, or to see if the computer can accurately guess what kind of person they are by ascribing them to Twilight characters . I don't blame them, it's escapism like everything else in our lives that we spend our time doing that is either questionably or unquestionably considered substance. As I'd stated before, I post to Facebook and Twitter all the time. I'm no better. Which is exactly the point. Even I, blogger, reader, writer, maintain short updates on social applications rather than use my time to actually express myself meaningfully here. On my very own beautiful website. Is there hope for us bloggers? Or do I need a gimmick? Something flashy and funny? Something lighthearted and distracting? The truth is, I'm not a gimmick gal. I'm dark and broody. I'm introspective and reflective. I'm cloudy with a chance of showers. And no one likes the rain, but me.

Well, as you know by now I've finally finished Sluggernut. It'd be nice to hear your opinions on the story, good or bad, as it's my first foray into writing fiction for an audience. I'd like to make it a regular feature on the site but it's important to me to know how it's being received. Y'all are so damn quiet I'm beginning to think I'm writing to no one. Which is fine I guess. I have no problem talking to myself, I find me quite amusing.

Summer has finally come to Portland. The winter was long, as it always is, and now that it's sandals and skirts weather my spirits have been high. The cats are also enjoying the warm weather and the stalking of crows, possums, cats, and raccoons through the open windows has become their new sport. Tsunami is once again back on the leash and harness and we take evening walks in the parking area behind the house in my effort to acclimate him to the scary outside. He's getting braver and yesterday he led me halfway down the driveway before getting spooked by a car and turning back.

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