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02.04.2002 |  1 2

I really, truly, vehemently loathe thinking about money. Itís not that Iím bad with it Ė Iím quite responsible with the little I actually possess -- I just donít have much interest in making money. Making moneyís a bore, for this girl anyway, and I live simply enough (and in a very cheap town) that not having a sufficient amount of money to survive has just never been an issue. (And yes, I count myself very lucky indeed).

Maybe itís because I was an art student in college, or maybe Iím just plain impractical by nature, but whatever the reason, I still have that starving artist mentality: throw yourself into doing something you love, and your personal satisfaction will be compensation enough. I started Digs on a lark: it was one of those crazy dreams I have Ė become a chef, write a novel, go to grad school, open a black pearl milk tea shop in Tucson Ö start a website! -- that actually turned into something tangible. I thought it would be good for my html and design skills, plus force me to write regularly. And I secretly hoped that maybe a handful of other souls out there might actually enjoy the products of my efforts as well (I said I hated money; but fame? Thatís a different story).

So Iíve never been in this for the dough. I never cared how much money the site made, as long as it was enough to cover the bills Ė and for the first year, the money was good, considering how small my audience was at that stage. I threw myself into developing content and promoting my site, not to increase page views or click-throughs or any of that other crap that the money-makers on the web obsess about, but because I was that excited about discovering so many likeminded souls. What I wrote about was mostly my life and my silly preoccupations, but that other people seemed to find it relevant to their lives as well Ė I was just plain amazed (and still am, in fact).

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