Hi, I’m doing a blog. Gosh that feels like, ugh. Ack. Why? For those of you reading this and who know me (which I assume is all of you for now? At least until this thing gets going… or until I’m the only one left reading it?), you might feel like I should definitely NOT start a blog. In fact, “Stop now,” you’re probably thinking. And to that I say, “Yeah, I know.” And if I could, I would. Stop writing this, I mean. Now. Stop. Typing. Now. But, nope. I’m going to have to keep typing, looks like.
So, for starters, why the title “scribblemescribbleyou”? Well, I’m calling my posts scribbles, because that’s what they feel like to me. So, for most of my life I’ve written, or thought about writing, or been told I’m not a terrible writer. But I kept that pretty much to myself because writing is so personal! Exclamation point. Some may get why I’d choose to hide this thing that always felt more like a problem, or like a high beam of light shining directly into a window that looked directly into me. Scary. And, on the other hand, some might see that me not doing something that is so personal and essential to who I am, well, that’s a problem, too.
So how about if I just dabble? I’ll write these scribbles and maybe they’ll turn into whole pictures, all fleshed out, or maybe not. Maybe I’ll become more fully who I am– a goal of mine. I want to practice, is the point. So: scribbles. Plus, it’s fun to say, “scribblemescribbleyou.” And, nobody had taken that domain name yet, so I did… at which point it became the immediate property of WordPress and they charged me a monthly fee for it! (WTF? I see how it is.) So I kind of have no choice now.
…More? Oh… sure! So, I’m a married (I know, sooorry) mother of three (girl, boy, boy) and we live in a town just this side of Boulder, Colorado. It’s a very waspy town in a Colorado kind of way… “Colorado waspy.” That means we’re all white, seem to have disposable right-down-the-drain income, though no one goes to an office. Everybody looks like they just “rode,” climbed, yogied, cross-fitted, ran, whatever (I don’t really know) and our hair is always in that perfectly imperfect, wispy bun/ponytail, or we sport the at-that-perfect-stage beard (if you are male) complimented by the most unassumingly ironic, slightly tight T-shirt. Everybody but me. Craft Beer is very important (I’m onboard with that one). I also teach preschool and I found my sanity there, because 4 year olds make more sense to me than you do.