I can tell you're a reader with discriminating tastes.

I don't want to get too specific with this, but I was at a poetry reading recently at school. Some of the readers, obviously, weren't Yeats or anything, but I enjoyed what they had to say, as a way of looking at something from a new angle. Others were overtly and unquestionably talented; not only did they open a door to me, but they used the language in unexpected, creative, musical ways. The rest were no good at all, but I salute their bravery. One girl in particular sticks out in my mind as being one of the latter. She was proud of her subject matter and I don't think she cared much how good it actually was. Her poem was about her cats, composed in matter-of-fact, plain, flat statements. Fluffy likes to chase yarn while Mittens' eyes are grey. Very gray like clouds. Fluffy curls in my lap. I like it.
Etc.
I was thinking about that poem this afternoon and it struck me that this blog could so easily skid off into Ode To Fluffy and Mittens territory. I know I talk about my cat and my birthday and which nostril I prefer to pick first, but I hope I write it in a way that's different and interesting. For instance, I was discussing the blog dooce.com with my boyfriend the other day. Dooce is a young married mother who writes about married life, her daughter, her dog, what she bought at the grocery store. I have no husband, children, or dogs (I hardly ever go to the store for myself anymore either. Shameful.) but I am interested in what she has to say every few days because she writes in a way that makes it completely worth my while to read about swatches and paint chips for her new house.
Hopefully sometimes that's what this will do. I know the so-called travails of a 25 year old student living at home with a cat who knows a thing or two about English and travel aren't common ground for many people, but if I can make them worth the time of a tasteful 40-something sheep farmer with an adopted son named Mitch and a 300-pound wife from Wisconsin, then this blog of mine might just be able to cure cancer when read thrice weekly. Boy do I hope so.