Fussing

"When are we going to see your blog, Ellen?"
Farmer Kenny

You know, the last time I did something popular, I bought a pair of pleated, pegged pants in 1983. Still smarting from that blunder, I can't believe I'm hazarding another foray into a trend. I admire me some good writing - there's great storytelling and commentary going on all over the ether, and I know I've only lurked around the edges. I'm inspired by Mrs. Kennedy and the Blurbdoocery, and Mightygirl, and it's true that I wouldn't know anything about this if it weren't for Liz and her Smithical world. Prospect? Daunting! If I can't be any one of those lovely folk, or since NakedJen is already, well, spreading her fairydust hin und her; if I can't just jump in late and charm the blog world and act as though it had been nothing before I came along, why should I even try? Now, I know that's the addictive personality talking, and I'm supposed to live just for today and be glad for what I have and try new challenges without expecting terrible things to happen. So, what, is this supposed to be good for me? Fun? A challenge? I laugh in the face of spiteful commentary! Gugh. Have mercy, Lord.