If you just said that, or thought that, or read that...
yes, I have a blog.
I have always written things down. And hoarded pens. The latter a manifestation of the former, and both the result of never completely trusting my speaking voice as a method of expressing the fascinating particulars of my current reality.
As a teenager, I self-published single page newspapers, venting about everything from party lines (not as fun as you might think) and restrictions imposed by "the man" (my father) on weekend use of the family's red station wagon.
Then off to college I went to study journalism at the University of Arizona.
I was a newspaper reporter before I became a yoga teacher.
I also did time as a mediocre poet, an unpublished novelist, and an okay short story writer.
Now, I will try my hand as a blogger, a decision I made this past summer when I stumbled upon a lapel button in a quirky little cement block beach shop near the salt marshes of South Carolina. I didn't buy it, but wish I had. It said, simply, "Nobody reads your [bleep]ing blog."