Was that a pig that flew by my window?

20 Jun

I can’t believe I have a blog.  When blogging first became popular, I thought, why would I want to do that?  I kept journals in middle school and high school.  I found one of them when I went back to my parents a few weeks ago, read a few pages and laughed.  God, I was an over-dramatic pain in the butt at 15.  At some point I stopped keeping journals.  Part of it was probably due to the fact that I was in college, and if given the choice between writing down my feelings and going to a bar I heard a cute guy in my Math class would be at, I chose the bar.  Part of it was that the thrill was gone.  I found writing burdensome.  I think it also had to do with the fact that I lived in an apartment with two roommates and while I never thought they’d ever in a million years go through my stuff, the thought of anyone finding a journal with my innermost thoughts was terrifying.

I think that’s why I never really jumped on the blogging bandwagon.  Why would I want to write down my feelings in a public forum?  I keep a lot of my feelings from people I know.  Why on earth would I want to risk strangers reading about them?

But I need something.  I need an outlet.  I need a way to express myself.  And that callous on my right middle finger caused by holding pens and pencils the wrong way in school for 20 years has finally gone away.  So journal is out, blog is in. Whether it’s about my job, what’s making me happy or sad, my interest in clean living, deciding to sign up and train for races after having a mild panic attack over not knowing what to do with myself after my wedding (it’s on Saturday), yoga, or my struggle as a vegetarian trying to stop eating dairy due to lactose intolerance despite my love affair with cheese (only melted cheese oddly enough), I’m going to write about it here.  I don’t know if anyone will read this except for me.  That’s fine.   However, the knowledge that I have a place to come to put down my thoughts, my interests, my dislikes, my feelings is comforting.


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