I used to write stuff. Before Ultra Vroom died, I wrote a lot, actually, and I liked it that way. I miss it. Now I have nowhere to process things or talk about my kids! Right now my baby giggles like he’s going to burst every time I sing Christmas songs at him (Am I offended? Maybe a little. Am I enamored? Oh yeah.), but I have no platform to write an essay about that (not that I would because, well, that’s the whole story). I suspect this sort of information is what Facebook is for, but I like to be more longwinded than that.
So. Writing on the Internet. I think I need it still. Like when I had a miscarriage, and I told my blog before anyone else, and the comments got me through the day. I think about that sometimes, and I wonder if this blog can handle SeriousRealLifeAnnie or if it’s just for AnnieWhoLikesPrettyStuffAndShowsOffProjects. I suppose that’s up to you guys. So this is me half asking if more words would be ok with you and half telling you that there are going to be more words and I hope that doesn’t make most of you run away.
In other news, it seems that I’m suddenly really into plaid, judging from my latest thrift-store fabric motherload. I can’t explain this.