Update: Today, April 8, 2013, I am committing to posting three times a week. By the end of this year, I’m hoping it’s everyday. But I think I can do three times. And I’m going to love being little (and I never do) because according to the rules of the world, from little begets big.

If blogging was that guy, he’d be that guy that wears skinny jeans and v-necks and has as well-informed and insightful opinions about why Astros bullpen has collapsed 17 times this year and if the Giants offense can actually be called that as he would about the 1967 Israeli borders. He’d read the “New York Times” bestsellers for fun and he’d skydive in his free time. In other words, he’d be a no-brainer to date.

However, on the other hand I would totally be that girl. Always confessing to my friends on his (its?) merits and charms while inwardly glaring at myself for never actually deciding to follow-through, confused at how inexplicable my behavior was.

So I suppose that is blogging and I in a nutshell. And now you know who my “type” is too. Bonus.

If you scroll down long enough, you’ll see a post with me reveling about the feelings of the published word and maybe you’ll relate to my glee and narcissistic elation. Maybe you’ll just chuckle. Maybe you won’t laugh.

I created this blog during November of 2008 when I decided it’d be meaningful to capture my thoughts in the midst of freshman year euphoria. I never had enough self-discipline though to maintain it and though I thought about deleting those early posts, (and you can see my failed effort to resuscitate this on the eve of sophomore year), I ultimately decided to preserve some of the vanity both for posterity and my own personal reflection.

I lived outside of the United States for the majority of last year, for the first four months in China where WordPress was blocked. I recorded my thoughts on a SnapPages account that evidently flew under the radar (maybe I was just too ultimately too complicit with the system)  that the Chinese government never picked up on anything.

Well anyway, it’s summer. I have time to read Gabriel García Márquez and scribble notes to my California pals. I have time.


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