The boys have been running around the crib like their tails are on fire all morning, much to the consternation of my downstairs neighbor, I'm sure. Then again, I can't stand my downstairs neighbor, so any little passive-agressive tormenting is a victory to me.
Anyway, there are myriad reasons as to why I've decided to blog: One is that my closest friends have heard my stories
ad nauseum and so I need new victims -- I mean, a new audience with whom to share my soap opera. (On the flipside of that, they may have forgotten how charming my delivery is, so why not give it all to them again in print, right!?!? Heh.) The more important reason, though, is that I'm looking to rediscover what other voice I have besides "GA reporter." Unless you're a columnist, newspaper writing allows for little in the way of personality, and I've become wistful for the days when I could let whatever came out of my head out on the paper for all the public to see. Actually, that's not exactly it -- maybe "refine" my voice is what I'm looking for, because I feel like when I write something, it's like totally predictable how I'm going to set it up, and it ain't as smooth as I'd like.
And let's be honest, here: I'm an attention whore. It's incredibly cool to see my byline all over the place; I wouldn't do it if it weren't.
Oh, whatEVER.