The last time I kept a blog, it had my name attached. If I knew you, you knew that I was writing that blog. Random ladies at church would walk up to me on Sunday mornings and compliment me on my writing. The link to that blog was on my Facebook page and Twitter. My mother emailed the URL of that blog to her friends. I wrote that blog sitting in a straight-backed chair, at a desk, fully clothed.

I’m ready for a blog that I can write while lounging in my windowsill naked at night. I’m ready for a blog that can only be found by chance, while wading across the vast expanses of the internet like a pilgrim trudging through sand on their way to some obscure holy place in the desert. I’m ready to write a blog the little old ladies at church don’t read. This blog, is that blog. I am ready to write recklessly, with no concern of compliments or criticisms.

So come in, dear reader. This is a comfortable place, though your host is often absent-minded (and occasionally uncouth). You are welcome.

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