I’m Beautiful Like Me.

I knew there was something bugging me about Blogger, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it until I came across BlogBloke’s post about comments at Blogger sucking. They do suck! Why? They are a pain to access unless the blog owner has hacked the code for inline comments, they are still difficult unless one has an account with Google at Blogger or an OpenID and for all that trouble, there is still no link love! Plus, WordPress has Gravatars, which are the funk! I had been leaving comments all about the web for months without realizing the joy of Gravatars. Go realize the love!

So here is how I did it. Thanks to BlogBloke’s experience making the move himself to get me through it!

I’m not quite prepared yet to spend a monthly fee on hosting (remember Husband’s job sitch?!), but I was able to find powerful free hosting with 000webhost.com. Here’s what they give you:

• 250 MBs of Disk Space
• 100 GBs of Data Transfer
• PHP with MySQL Database Support

In other words, all you need for a small-time blog like mine! They even feature Fantastico De Luxe 1-Click Auto-Installer, but I was a nincompoop and did it the hard way.

Setting up your blog (the hard way like I did) is not quite as simple as it is with Blogger (despite what WP lovers everywhere might tell you!), but it’s a lot of fun if you like coding and tinkering to get things just so.

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I have always been the type of person who runs away when the shit hits the fan. It’s instinctual for me. When the going gets tough, tata gets going. I’m almost 31 years old now, so it really isn’t very grown-up of me to behave as such anymore. Besides, it isn’t very effective, as it never accomplishes what I’m really hoping for: escape from the ugly thoughts and feelings that consume me.

Today, I’ve wanted to run away again. Instead, I’ve distracted myself as much as humanly possible from my feelings and thoughts. I watched a movie, read in the bathroom and knitted on my sock at every possible opportunity. I did go out for a bit earlier, looking for a job. I cried in between one place and the next, as I felt (warning: teen angst years relived) that all of this was totally fucking unfair. This is not how I wanted to return to the workforce. I have a college degree! I shouldn’t be waiting tables or pushing a mop, dammit.

Alas, I will do what I must, I s’pose. Growing up and all that jazz.

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