“It’s the oldest story in the book. One day you’re 17 and planning for someday, and then quietly and without you really noticing, someday is today. And then, someday is yesterday. And this is your life.”

I started blogging when I was in my teens, but it didn’t really get popular until I was 17 or so.  Since then I have journeyed to college, graduated from college, moved to Madison, Wisconsin, moved back to DC.  I’ve excelled professionally, and spent months unemployed.  I’ve written over 3 million words in blog format, and I’ve published my own book.   I’ve had roommates that I loved, and roommates that I’ve hated.  I’ve loved people I shouldn’t have, and not shown the people I should have how much I truly cared.  Somewhere, from sitting in that small bedroom in my parents room, blogging about what I was going to do, I’ve turned into a 28 year old who while not exactly where I thought I would be, is exactly where I need to be.

You know one of the most confusing emotions involved with writing a blog like I do is that your life is on display for all to see.  It’s normally a very rewarding experience because you get to share your feelings on the human experience with other people, and get their views.  I can sit here and write, my words can change the lives of peoples around me without me even knowing.  It’s amazing.  But there’s something about it that leaves you a little bit naked, and a little bit exposed.  Realistically, these words are my diary screaming out loud for anyone to judge, anyone to comment.   You start to filter your life, start to worry about what people will say, what people will think, and then it becomes a job, something you dread doing – and you have to take a break.  You have to, or it’s not something you love anymore.

I knew I would come back to writing, I always do – and here I am.

Welcome back me!