Today my sister wrote a beautiful blog post about her first car or about my dad - or perhaps about her. I really can't say. What I can say is that I was jealous. That's right I'm forty-odd years old and she's not even forty. So, as you can easily see, the big sister in me cries out to write - write profound and kick my little sister's ass. Admittedly not a noble goal but a wonderful excuse to write.
What will I write about? I am quite sure that I should have some outline or at least a vague idea but instead, I allow my sense to be guided by the green eyed monster - JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL!
I have wanted a blog for some time now. Actually, I probably have started one (possibly three . . . just, possibly). All I can hear is that voice in the background (possibly my husband's . . .just, possibly) that is saying, "Are all these people so special that everyone wants to read what they have to write?" The thing is that now it's not about me - it's simply about jealousy. That is different. Everyone knows, that is different.
So don't look at me funny. Look at me like some who is "inspired" by my little sister. Oh - and Jennifer - eat my Internet fumes! whoa ha ha ha
