Live to read, love to write, loathe to blog

I'm so procrastinaty I can't even write my own to-do list 
(www.appliedartsmag.com)

Hello reader, (I haven’t written readers plural, it feels a little bit like false advertising)

it’s been a wee while since my (frankly rubbish) attempt to begin this blog and write on it every day, and there are a couple of whiny justifications well thought out reasons for that:

To begin with, there are some effing amazing, clever, beautifully written blogs out there.  If I was to list them all here I’d run out of space, and you can find them in the list of pages I like.  So, as I said above, I live to read.  There will be a post coming up about books shortly, noreallyhonestlytrulytherewill.  However, to stick to the subject at hand, reading on t’interweb is a whole different ball game.  I think I started prettiesthobo partly because I was reading other blogs and nodding along and thinking ‘spot on’ and ‘fantastic’ and ‘how articulate’ and ‘that’s exactly what I think!’ Well as it turns out, there’s quite a difference between nodding along and writing something witty/easy to identify with/clever/spelling-mistake-free every.single.day. It actually turns out, as a matter of big fat fact, that there are a whole bunch of women out there who are funnier and cleverer and better at finding things to write about than I am.  Which I guess is the universal problem with discovering a community of like-minded people – there’s always someone cooler than you, and its hardly as if anybody in the world is thinking to themselves ‘you know what we need? We need another blog by some gobby amateur who thinks she’s a writer.’ What they’re more likely to think is ‘a whole website that she’s going to do on her own? This is just like when Katie Price made Jordan magazine – a, fairly unnecessary, and b, tickets on herself much?’

Secondly, and this is linked to the above – it seems that all the reading I do, along with the fact that I’m a bit of a bossy boots a little bit assertive, apparently means that I’m not bad in an editorial capacity. Lately I’ve been lucky enough to have been editing the out-and-out glorious website www.florencefinds.com.  Rebecca writes the words and looks glamorous, and I lurk around in the background in my University of Salamanca hoodie and Junior Soprano spectacles pouncing gleefully on any typos I find.  I live a very rock and roll life, me.  It seems to have worked quite well, the response to Mrs Norris’ new project has been phenomenal (quelle surprise) and, lazybones that I am, I’ve been spending my coulda-woulda-shoulda-been-bloggin’ time on the multicoloured pages and filling up Mrs Norris’ inbox with comments on her content.  I mean, wouldn’t you?

The final reason that this baby blog is basically prettiestNObo at the moment is that you could pay me to procrastinate, I’m that good at it.  In fact, if you did pay me, you’d be supremely out of pocket.  It’d be good for Team Hobo if you did though – we’d take your money and run back to Cuba with it and eat our body weight in fried plantains and start a school or something. So true to form, I started this blog with a spurt of enthusiasm and the best laid plans, which duly gang aft agley. I do fully intend noreallytrulyhonestly to do a couple of prettiesthobo went to Cuba stories as well as writing about what it was like to live and study in Spain (brilliant, if you’re wondering) but I haven’t so far. Obvs.

But – in true it never rains but it pours good men are like buses style, I am all over the internet today.  Well, me and my G’ma, anyway.  The stupendously greche girls at www.anyotherwedding.com  have kindly let me lower the standard of their peachy pages to feature my AnyOtherPhoto, and my* recipe for warmy butternut squash soup is up over on www.florencefinds.com.  I’ve been inspired by this little surge of Hobo-everywhere Friday to make some Serious Plans for This Blog and this time I am going to follow them through. NoreallyhonestlytrulyIam.

Ps. It’s the Hoboest Husband’s birthday today.  We are going away for a special surprise almost mini-break in the city.  I can't tell you any more, it's top secret.