New to Me

One time, I was in a freshman English class at Brigham Young University. I was given an assignment to write whatever came into my head in a certain amount of time. I loved this assignment, but now I cringe every time I think of the stupid asides I made about boys and roommates and other silly things. One especially embarrassing commentary had to do with boys, my banjo, and how boys like girls that play the banjo. I'm sure my grad-student teacher could barely gag down any of my papers. I think that's partially why I haven't blogged until now. For some reason, I have no problem telling a story or participating in conversations, but I'm very self-conscious of anything written. It just seems so much more permanent than a conversation. Well, I guess here's to hoping I don't write anything stupid.