Finally. I got a post out.

I sit down to write a post. To start again with this writing thing.
Who knew that it could be this difficult to just write a post. . . I didn't.
In the movies you watch people like Kathleen Kelly and Julie Powell sit down and write something -- even if it's on a food blog or in a message to an "over the internet" friend. Somehow they managed to get something out. Something out that didn't sound completely ridiculous because they didn't know what to say. They formed words that sounded good together and little phrases that never leave your mind like, "a bouquet of sharpened pencils..." and such like that. Of course, they had script writer's who formed the words for them, but someone still thought of it. Someone thought of, "I like Patricia. I *love* Patricia. Patricia makes coffee nervous" and all of those things that just make me laugh and want to hear that line said again.

They also have the benefit of living in a place like New York City, where they can write about the things that they see every morning that happen to be very good at repetition. Writing about bakery's opening up for the day, people's habits in grocery stores, and the every day conversations that you have in the same book store that you own.
And what could I write about? I could write about the school buses that pick up the children in our neighboring homes. The farmer's that eat at the local diner every morning. The same mail man that brings our mail. The two lady's that walk the same route every day, normally at the same time. And such like that.
But all those seam almost blase, if you will.
Perhaps I will try to make them sound as interesting as New York City's little habits. Who knows.

But not now.

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