I'm teaming up with (I think that's what real bloggers say, "I'm teaming up with") my friend Michelle over at Big Time Literacy  and attempting a writing challenge.  As with most things, I'll probably do it for three days and quit.  Grow up Katie.  Either way, today...I write.

I started writing this blog six, has it really been that long, six years ago!

When it started I was going to write about "The Journey to the Healthiest Version of Me."  No?  Thank you for clarifying.  It was going to be about all things that keep me healthy and sane and how I'm getting there.

I'm still on the journey and my blog has morphed into...nothing.

Sometimes it's exercise.
Sometimes it's food.
Sometimes it's dating.
Sometimes it's memories.
Sometimes it's random rants.

Sometimes they are so funny that I actually laugh while I'm typing them and sometimes they open up places in my heart that I thought were sealed shut, and I cry after I publish those.  Sometimes things are happening in my life that are so ridiculous that I feel like God is making them happen JUST so I have material.

It's important to speak our clearest truths even if our voices shake and, at the same time, knowing I have put so much of myself out there is terrifying.

I know that I'm always the person who pushes "Publish" but when I have conversations with people in 3D, I forget that they may have actually read what I wrote which, basically, means I let the general public look inside of my naked soul.

The purpose of the blog has morphed, but the reason I write has remained the same...I love this !@#$.

I think it might be in my blood.

My mom was a writer.  Yeah, we got a letter or two from her once upon a time.  One of these days I'll figure out how to turn on her ancient MacBook (the huge heavy white ones) and pull her writing off there.

My brother is a writer.  Although he's gotten pretty lazy about it.  Yeah, I said that Thomas.  Grow up and start writing again.  He's actually much better than me.  He was in Honor's English.  I was in normal English.  He knows where all the commas go.  I just pretend.  Grow up Katie. You're a teacher. 

My cousin is a writer and he's hilarious.  I forgot what he does now.  Writes for Boeing?  MSN?  Katie, you're such a narcissistic a-hole.  Pay attention when people talk to you.    Crap.  I can't remember but he's a professional writer.

My other cousin has published books and used to be a slam poet.  He published a piece called "Peggy's Pickles" that will blow your !@#$ing mind.

So that's what we do...we write.

I love it when I get a great story in my head and it starts flowing out of my fingertips like a faucet; those that come so fast that my hands can hardly keep up...and I'm a pretty fast typist.  Thank you Keyboarding class where I was a Freshman and the biggest crush of my life was a Senior.  We used to type letters back and forth to each other and unless I Kon Maried those away, I still have them.  But I digress...as I always do.  My stream of consciousness starts running and I just throw it all on the paper and then I go back and cut/paste like a maniac...until it's ready.  I skim it and before I get nervous and before you proofread I publish.



It's fun for me to write when I have a good story to tell.
It's therapy for me to write when I have big things on my heart.
Sometimes I write for an audience and sometimes I write just for me.
To date I have published 285 blogs and I have 105 in the Draft box.
When my face is being a bitch and my mouth is following, my fingers say it better.

Let's dig in and get real.  I think that's why people like my writing...or, possibly, why they cringe when they read it.  Good, bad, or ugly, it's always real.