Nothing Much To Say Today

And yet, I'm saying it anyway. Because I promised to blog every day.

Every writer should keep a journal. That's what they say, anyway. And I never have. I have the typical set of journals, of course, that every little girl gets for Christmases and birthdays, and each one of them has the first five or six pages dutifully scribbled on in my messy little-girl scrawl. But the last one is dated the year I was eleven. Since then, nothing.

Every so often I write something that isn't a poem, isn't a story, isn't an essay, isn't much of anything, really. I suppose these pieces are my version of journaling, but they aren't organized or anything, and I generally pass them off as essays even though they very obviously aren't.

Actually, I guess I do journal, in a way. I have a minor obsession with MySpace, specifically with MySpace surveys. Anyone who is on my Friends list knows absolutely EVERYTHING that is going on in my life, and every other thing about me. And I can't seem to stop doing them- I take them faithfully, to the great annoyance of the people whose Bulletin spaces I fill up. So yeah. I guess I do journal.

And that means this post is rather pointless, because the point I intended to make was that this blog is my method of journaling, and I was going to proclaim that since I journal now, I am finally a successful writer.

But nevermind. :)