When I was younger, I wanted to be a writer. I suppose it's one of those things I inherited from my dad.
I have boxes full of journals filled with all my ramblings. I wrote short stories on pieces of construction paper with my own illustrations. I even wrote a few full-length novels in middle school (which I would NEVER share with anyone now).
In recent years I have not made writing a major priority of mine. I started college and began to focus on psychology. Writing research papers is very different than writing from a creative standpoint. I kind of lost sight of this favorite passtime of mine and spent my time discovering new interests.
I think my dad was somewhat puzzled by the fact that I seemed to have dropped writing so suddenly, because he even spoke to Alex about it. This in turn caused Alex to start encouraging me to write more. So after much prodding from many different sources (yes, including you, Anne Marie), I am finally blogging.
I have had this blogger account since 2005...but never got around to filling it with anything. Besides, I blogged on myspace...so what did I need blogger for??? However, as I mentioned before, I have succumbed to peer pressure. I am a "blogger."
Should we celebrate?