Welcome Back.

Okay.

It is July 12th. (I think?) I'm gonna start writing again.

I always talk about the fact that I don't write. Or that I don't write well. I always think about what I would write if I did write, but then, I don't. I am afraid that some internet virus will respond to me, but no one will really listen.

And then I have to admit to myself that I really love having an audience.

Too much.

So, maybe I shouldn't talk about writing. Maybe I should just write. Maybe I shouldn't worry about my audience (even though I can't stop doing that). Maybe I shouldn't worry about sounding eloquent or witty or inspiring (even though I won't stop that either).

Being a hermit is really easy for me.

Like...I have no trouble at all staying up until 3am, sleeping until noon, staying in my pjs until 4, taking a shower at 5, cooking some dinner, watching tv intermittently throughout the day, and then doing the same routine again. I have to plan parties in order to avoid making this a permanent routine. Parties require shopping, cooking, and cleaning. Otherwise, I might as well be called Boo Radley.

I really love taking people's portraits.

Like...really love it. The problem is that I hate that I am technically deficient, and I don't know how to get better, save throwing more and more money at better equipment. I want to take classes. I want to take pictures like this:



Do you see how vibrant that color is? DO YOU SEE THAT?

Or this:


See how that black is black, and that white is white? See how beautifully the shot is composed?

I want that.

Hmmm...onto other stuff, I guess.

I am scared of the upcoming school year. Scared.

Like...when I think about it, I get a rotten feeling in my gut. What am I scared about?

Well, I am scared that I will hate the new format of each day. I am scared that I won't have the ability to stay on track and focused and disciplined. I am scared I will spend the entire year playing catch-up. I am scared that a part of my heart will be gone. I have had that feeling before, but it is different this time. I am scared that in only my ninth year, I am somehow getting burned out. I am scared that I will forget to love people again. I am scared that I will be overwhelmed. I could go on.

I mean, it isn't like I won't be able to handle it. I don't want to just handle my life, though. I want to love it. I need to have the attitude that it will be an adventure worth taking, a fitting change of pace since so many faces will be missing from my daily regime. I want to lead by service, by love, by joy, by passion, and I want, somehow, to know that I have challenged my students to be better students, better thinkers, better readers, better writers, and better human beings. I want to be exhausted. I want to get better. To be better.

But, what I really want is to be there for people, like I used to be. I want to give people attention and love who aren't easy to love. I don't want to be too busy for people anymore. I wouldn't mind if people needed me again.

I'm turning thirty in September.
Maybe that's what really scares me, for some reason.