Stephen King says that it always bothers him when people wander up to him and say, "I've always wanted to be a writer." He says those people miss the point. You either write or you don't. It's not a goal to be reached. It's a process to be experienced. So here I am. I haven't had enough "experiences" lately, and this is one I have complete control over.
I have no clue where this little experiment is headed. This could be the first and last entry or I might find my own little corner of the internet quite cozy and decide to stay for while. Hell, I know this is supposed to be blogging for dummies, but right now the comestics of this bastard are enough of a hassle. I feel like the first half dozen entries are likely to be the equivalent of a late night TV test pattern, but if a tree falls in the virtual forest and nobody's there to read it....right?
If this incarnation of my incoherent ramblings does stick around for a while it would, out of necessity, be an eclectic mix of irrelevant ramblings. The occasional movie review worthy of the middle aged late local news lady. Some small part of my brain thinks it might be useful to climb onto the couch and examine my daily angst. Of course the rest of that brain would only allow this until somebody else actually started reading it. Random thoughts more likely. Maybe at some point I'll break out a fancy picture camera, thought finding worthy subjects around here is a bit of a stretch.
I'm not going to overstay my welcome tonight. Nothing of substance here, more of an interwebs icebreaker.
