Words on a Blank Page

I've been putting this off. I promise myself I WILL do it, watch an episode of "The Big Bang Theory," play a game on my phone, check to see if anyone has posted anything new on the blogs I follow, read a chapter of the latest book in my pile, pet my dog, pet my cat, clean my room, clean the house, put in a load of laundry, watch another three episodes of "The Big Bang Theory," swap out laundry - in other words, I procrastinate.

A lot.

Why? you ask, and what exactly have I been procrastinating?

This. This first post of my blog.

It's a terrifying thing in its own way. You're taking a piece of your soul and putting it on the Internet for all the world to see. You hope they like you. You hope you have something to offer of value. "I want to be different!" your mind cries. "I'm unique, I'm special, and I want the entire world to see that I am!"

"Doggone it, I want people to like me!"

Yep. You and seven billion other people.

So this is your introduction to me. To me and all my million insecurities and concerns and worries.

I don't feel that I'm the typical lifestyle blogger. For one thing, have you ever notice that they all tend to be gorgeous? Seriously, is that a requirement or something? Yep, just go ahead and show me your great sense of fashion, with your size 6 figure and your shiny hair and your straight white teeth.

That's not me. I haven't found a picture I want to put up yet, but I am definitely not one of those bloggers. I'm not UGLY - even I can recognize that I have pretty decent looks. But ever since I turned 25, my face has decided pimples were the way to go. I need to lose about thirty pounds. My hair is wavy and almost constantly poking up in weird directions. I probably should have had braces, although my teeth could be worse. And there will definitely be some of those "whiten your teeth at home" tricks from Pinterest being tried soon.

I don't have an amazing social life. I have a few friends, and we might go out and order a drink somewhere. It's never anything fancy. No boyfriend.

I live with my parents. Like many college graduates, I came out with stars in my eyes, only to realize I'd been lied to my whole life about what post-college life was like. Graduating in the middle of the economic downturn made it almost impossible to find a decent job. As a result, I moved back in with my parents, worked a couple years at jobs that didn't pay me enough to make it on my own, had some additional education, and I'm considering starting my master's degree within the next couple years. It's not awful - just not where I'd thought I'd be at 25.

In fact, if you had asked me ten years ago where I would be, I'm pretty sure I would have included making a living for myself, dating a guy (or possibly married), and just generally being awesome in every way.

Sorry to disappoint you, fifteen-year-old me - but that's not where I'm at.

At least not yet.

That's part of the purpose of this blog. I'm going to get there. And everyone who reads this is invited to come along.

I have potential. I can be awesome. I want to discover that person, the remarkable version of me that I know is there.

Let's go.