Origins

Call me whatever you want. Lace it with profanities and strive for personal attacks. I'm from Philly; I've been called worse.

While growing up, my older sister consistently referred to me as ignorant. I suppose she considered it an inside joke, since I honestly didn't know what it meant and I was too stubborn/full of apathy to look up the definition. Even that didn't bug me, though.

The only term to get my blood boiling is "hypocrite." And yet, here I am: in the blogosphere, somewhere I swore up and down I'd never reside. So what do I have to offer? What catalyst inspired me to jump the proverbial fence and check out the not-at-all greener grass? Nothing. Not a flipping thing.

No, that can't be right. Within the last week, my sister introduced me to her blog. Two co-writers from Storymash.com (where I'm nashvillebecker, in case you're curious or stupid) post their musings on-line. Multiple friends maintain their blogs with regularity - I have at least a dozen bookmarked in my Favorites. (Not that I check them often, but a fact is a fact.)

So I'll use this space for little observations, I suppose. Jokes that don't work. Phrases or bits to use in larger stories later on. I have a journal I don't use; now I have an e-journal I won't use too. Joy. Rapture. Tapioca.