A word that conjures memories of barefoot rendezvous, melting ice cream cones, and sidewalk chalk camaraderie. Of jump rope games, lazy poolside afternoons, and firefly evenings. It’s not just a word, it’s a mood. A feeling. And a good one, too.
And what am I doing? Adventuring? Nope. Relaxing? Not even. I’m sitting around, stressing about all the things I should be doing. Writing blogs about the things I mean to do in the future, instead of actually doing them. And that sentence seems like such a positive way to start off this little endeavor, wouldn’t you say?
So. This blog should be a way to de-stress. To get out my feelings of aimlessness, and to improve my writing. To add some level of coherence to my ramblings, and to prove to myself that I can and will keep a journal, and that I can and will be able to keep up with something. Anything.
I’ll write about whatever. My failed attempts at diet and excersize and my failed attempts to spell the world exercise correctly. My musings on life and friendship, and long-distance relationships. My outrage at the political escapades of Washington, and (hopefully) my comments on the international landscape as well. My plans for the year to come, for my sophomore year, for my Opinions editorship, and for myself.
So that’s what it’s for. Myself. I mean, it’s not like I’m a harsh critic, or anything. Right?