“You should start a blog,” I was told. “Why aren’t you writing?” another colleague asked. Why not? I’ve kept journals in various forms since I was a child, but was convinced that I wouldn’t be adding anything new, interesting or compelling to the clutter that is the internet. Obviously, I’ve decided to give it a go, yet again. This is where I am attempting to chronicle the adventures of my life. I have this (somewhat bizarre) compulsion to write and share things I have been through, experienced or wondered about. I make no promises of quality or quantity. Sometimes writing is therapeutic for me, as is feedback. Unless your feedback is mean-spirited, and then it’s not therapeutic and will just make me angry. Such is life on the internet, right? This is my space. Play nice or you’ll be sent elsewhere.
2022 brings about my newest project: import selected entries from past journals and blogging platforms into this blog. It’ll take time, but I’m up for the challenge.
The basics that are very likely inspire my writings: I’m in my early 50s, but feel like I’m in my 20s. I was a late bloomer. I grew up agnostic in a mixed-faith home in the Detroit suburbs in the late 1980s and early 1990s. I desperately miss real alternative music. I’m constantly striving to be a better person and to learn new things. I’m a migraineur, a librarian, a so-so gamer, and an amateur genealogist. I split my time, both personal and professional, between two countries. I share my home with one husband, one child and one dog. I’m easily distracted, which is both a blessing and a curse.