Weird why? Well, despite all you lovely folks out there who claim to like my writing, my own voyeuristic tendencies, and my appreciation for writing that calls to me–I still can’t believe that anyone but me will read this. I don’t read any blogs (sorry blogger friends, I still love you but my secret is out), and my grasp of technology is tenuous at best (I spent five minutes trying to figure out how to tab this paragraph so it is properly indented, no go). When I push the publish button, will this go to my Facebook, my fourth grade teacher, the IRS?
Most of all, I can’t guarantee an outcome of this new endeavor, and I do not have a plan. Now, I know there are no guarantees, and holding too tightly to a plan is a rookie move. I can’t even guarantee that I have spelled guarantee correctly. I’m old enough now to know that ‘control’ is an illusion, even though I agree with one of my eighth graders who recently said to me, “It’s like this, we have feelings for each other, so we try and control stuff so the people we love will be okay.” So, I’m stuck in the middle with me. I want to protect you: friends, family, strangers, from bad writing which always makes me cranky, but the things I have which are beautiful, are more beautiful to me when shared.
The last five years have been a journey that shows no signs of abating, thankfully. I’ve gone from San Franciscan with roughly one non-teacher friend and a slightly autistic boyfriend, to a single Mountain Viewian (totally not a word) who dances, performs my poetry, leaves when I need to, and has a plethora of odd and gorgeous people around me. I’ve gone from leaping over the mess that is transition, to being able to bear it and grow from it with the help of my art, my friends, and the natural world. If any of this calls to you, come with me. I’d love to propel your journey like words have propelled me on mine. Or maybe, as a more modest starting goal, just make you laugh as much as I love to laugh. You’re right Phoebe, who am I to subtract something that might sing to someone’s soul?
So despite the weirdness, here’s my first blog post. If my Social Security number is on it or my address somehow, please don’t steal my identity. I only have 68$ in the bank anyways…68.14$ for those of you like accuracy. Time to go back to grading papers.
(are you supposed to sign your name at the end of a blog post?)