After several years of on-again, off-again online journal relationships, I've dug myself into another. May I present my blog. I didn't even know what a blog was until about a week and a half ago. Now I've gotten suckered into the fad and I'm wasting valuable internet space with my rantings . . . genius, innit? I'm writing this when I should be writing something better, like the next great American novel. (155 pages, 2/3 finished, and still no idea of how to end the thing.) I go back to Texas in two days--Sunday morning we'll pull out. It will be the first time for my sister and the two horses to be in Fort Worth permanently, and it takes both parents to help pull the trailer, so needless to say it's quite a caravan. We look like something out of the Grapes of Wrath going down the road. All we need now is a rocking chair strapped to the back of the truck. I don't know where my sanity is these days either; I think I left it somewhere in Georgia. Perhaps I'll find something back at school.
1 comment:
Support groups! I say yes. Ever since I read Fight Club and had a craving to go join the AA just for the free coffee I've wanted a support group. Now the thing is . . . what exactly are we supporting? The right to write inebriated and be generally awesome?
Post a Comment