It is 1:59 Am.
I have found my self, once again, staring in front of the daunting and taunting blank screen of my blog.
I hate the very idea of blogs. But - this said, I do read them.
I need to have something to document the whims of my youth. The very word "blog", I think, captures the momentary and insubstantial spirit of the words my generation uses. It's short. It's a little superficial. And it also sounds like the sound I make when I think about "blogging."
Mostly, something around the feeling of self-consciousness is what makes me hesitate about writing in something like this. This, folks, is me getting over that.
Eitherway, I have no idea how to start this train.
If Idaho was a person, they'd probably be diagnosed as imbalanced. Perhaps, bipolar even. Today, it rained hard enough for us to raise our voices in church to be heard. And we all know that no one raises their voice in church - or should anyway. The day before, it was windy. Which, for my Ohio readers, is not how we know wind. We have trees and small hills and buildings and people to slow down wind. We feel the wind in Ohio like the kid in the back seat feels the air-conditioner on the way back from a softball game. Idaho has flat open land that lets the cool air travel swiftly and unhindered. And when it gets some mountain momentum, and knocks the accessories off of people. The week before? It was paradise. Weather that August would have been proud to claim. It's only a matter of time before snow.
Well this is my first try at this. I'll get better.