In the beginning

Oh it’s the dreaded, obligatory, trend setting, eye catching first post on the new blog. The one where you try to be as dashingly interesting and witty as possible so that you can gain the same if not more attention than you had at that other blog site that has taken a turn for the worst and you packed your bags and ran from and here I am. Not quite sure how much to say, how to even begin saying anything or if I EVEN want to really do this again.

I do though. I do want to do this again.  I ENJOY writing , I always have. Mostly because I have this ridiculous habit of thinking about things. Constantly. Getting it out on paper or screen for me is a lot like when you wear that FAVORITE pair of jeans that look absolutely fabulous on you to work knowing full well they don’t exactly fit like they once did.  You can get them up past your hips, button them up if you lay down on the bed and then pull a loosely fitting, equally fabulous shirt over the top to hide the busted can of skin biscuits that are oozing over the top of the waistband once you roll off the side of the bed and stand upright.  At the end of the long 9 hour day and you get home and  you lay down on the bed to unbutton those pants, exposing the red lined button indention’s and release blood flow back down to your legs and up to your heart again, there is that feeling of amazing relief. It is so freeing and it’s as if you can finally breathe again which, you finally can. There is just nothing quite like it. Except for maybe taking off that equally uncomfortable bra that you wore with those fabulous jeans and top that is the wrong size but you are too vain and proud to buy the less sexy bigger ones with 3 hooks on the back because just eww.

For me, that is what writing feels like. That’s how freeing it is for me getting out some of these ideas and thoughts overflowing inside my brain. You might be thinking if you don’t know me something like,”Oh man, she’s probably a loud mouthed, chatter box, crazy fat girl who wears clothes that are too small for her because she doesn’t want to accept that she is fat. Which means she is probably angry and lazy and over eats her feelings after everyone else is asleep and then blogs about the diarrhea and guilt she feels because of her binge eating the night before and how fat and bloated she feels today, which is why she wore sweatpants and doesn’t even care WHAT anyone thinks. Not even her husband who will probably still want to get all frisky tonight and she is going to have to figure out how to not tell him she cant because she’s gassy”… 

It’s really NOT that kind of blog at all… It’s actually quite the opposite.

But  I can talk about some of that next time.

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