the post about another blog that ends up being a bad idea. or how i {stopped short} at the end of another entry.

When I sit down at my computer and log onto blogger I sometimes have nothing at all to say. I know. Stunning revelation. It certainly seems as though I am a bottomless pit of exciting and hilarious things to talk about and I know everyone is entertained each and every single time they click on my link. Say it!


The truth is, sometimes I sit here and stare out the sliding glass doors into the field and get all to wrapped up in the birds and the broken flower pot and I start making kudzu animals with my mind instead of typing. Sometimes I stare. Sometimes I stalk other blogs. Sometimes I hit refresh on Apartment Therapy every thirty seconds until something new pops up...

I am not always inspired. And even when I am pumped full of love or disgust or any other feeling that sparks the blogger flame, I sometimes think to myself. I can't write about that. It's boring. oh the irony.

Anyway. JG and I talked the other night about me starting another blog. An anonymous one in which I can write about whatever I want, how I want to and not feel the pecking of a guilty conscience telling me to hit delete or change a word or just start all over. I think I need it. Somewhere I can be okay with writing crap. Or shit. Or sexyhunkylovemonkey stuff that seriously nobody wants to read.

The possibility of been able to just go for it....don't hold back {and all the other inspiring cliches you can think of}, tra-la-la that makes me giddy with anticipation. And I can hide out. And be nobody. A nobody talking to no one. Nobody saying *hugs when I write about a bad day. Not a soul telling me they identify with my feelings; making me feel normal in abnormal situations. Nobody correcting my spelling and grammar. (hmm)

Wow. It's starting to sound pretty lame, come to think about it. And lonesome.

Never. Mind.