First Time for Everything

So, here's the deal. I've written a lot of things in my life. I wrote a poem about Betsy Ross when I was eight (it was actually published in our local newspaper, even though I'm pretty sure my dad may have paid for the add space where it was printed). I began journaling when I was 11. I started writing and recording songs at age, 14 and that continued throughout high school and college and my early twenty-something years. It was also around that same time that I started writing a novel. It's about a woman, a Southern woman. She's in her 20's. She is single. She loves music and men and novels and money and Jesus. But it's not an autobiography. I PROMISE. I feel my best work, however, comes from what I've known, what I've lived, to some degree. I CAN tell you though, that I've also got a hell of an imagination. And where what I "know" leaves out some of the details, what I can imagine fills in the gaps with wild and reckless abandon! :) So you see, the book, is mostly fiction.... mostly. I've also started a children's book. My dear friend Emily has agreed to illustrate it if I can ever finish. So here's hoping.

My point in telling you all this is that I've always had an outlet for my thoughts and feelings. For a multitude of different reasons, I don't have that anymore. It's like the creative juices in my mind have stopped. They just stopped. I haven't cared enough about a man to write a melody down about him in almost two years (sad story). I don't have time to journal, and let's face it, what if somebody FOUND that thing? I don't have time for the embarrassment. I'm 30 years old! Journaling just seems ridiculous. I'm at a dead end with what to do with Leah (the heroine in my book) and I am unable to finish the story of the precocious pair of puppy dogs, lovingly and familiarly named, the Cupcake Darlings on what is meant to be their first of many adventures in and around the Mississippi Delta (my children's book). Soooo... I'm going to try this blogging thing!

My Facebook friends can thank me later because unlike SOME OF THEM (who shall remain nameless) I am not posting these thoughts on my page, clogging up their feed, and annoying the STEW out of them. I'm not vein enough to think that all 678 of my fb friends care what I'm doing, thinking, or feeling on a daily basis. And honestly, this blog is more for me than anyone else. So, starting now, from time to time... I'll post things. Random things. Silly things. Funny things. Sad things. Thought provoking things. Inspiring things. Genuine things. Honest things. Things about me. Things about the world in which I live. If you'd like to tune in, GREAT! If not, that's okay too.

Maybe... eventually... I'll be able to write another song, or start back on that novel, or finish that children's book.

*Things that may be helpful to know about me (if you don't already):

*I am insanely competitive. Possibly to an unhealthy degree. I'm not sure I was cut out for team sports. And... oddly enough-- I think it's getting worse with age. Maybe it's because I used to be naturally good at things and now it seems to involve a lot more effort.

*I grew up in a very strict, ultra conservative, right-wing Republican, Presbyterian home. I was lucky. I'm not complaining. My folks are great. It's a weird thing though, you know-- having your own thoughts. It's like you grow up to be like, age 30, and realize that your parents weren't right about everything. That I can have my own opinions about things, that I can say the words like "damn" and nothing bad is going to happen to me... (at least not right away)... Ha!

*Anyway-- oh yea, I have a precious baby niece, Lilly Whit, with whom I am slightly obsessed. However, in an effort not to bore you to tears, I will try and keep my comments/photos/stories about her to a minimum. I mean-- I like kids-- ESPECIALLY babies-- but I'm no dummy. NO ONE cares about hearing baby stories unless they actually played a part in creating the offspring in the aforementioned comment/photo/or story. Unless maybe you're a weird aunt who's like 30 years old...
I'd like to tell the Facebook god's this. I think there should be a limit on the amount of pictures/comments/status updates that one gets to post about their baby per week. There should be a really loud buzzer that goes off once you've reached photo number 5....or status update number 5. And then a woman's voice would come through your computer speaker and says: "I'm sorry, you've reached your limit of posts about your offspring for the week. Please talk about something else!"

*I'm not really 30. I'm 28, but ever since I turned 26 my "go to line," when I need to justify any decision or rationalize any behavior I may exhibit, I just say. "__________________, I'm 30 years old!" You can fill in the blank with just about ANYTHING, and it works.

*For instance, I just bought a new house. I bought it. That's right. Me. My money. Mine. And, starting in Jan. I'm getting a co-ed roommate. My mother was all, "Myra--you are going to be living with a BOY?! I don't know how I feel about that." And my response was, "Momma-- co-ed roommates are the newest, hippest thing! Everyone's getting one!" And when that didn't appease her, I said, "Besides, I'm 30 years old!"