peanut butter angels

i just read this cool book called, "Your Psychic Self," and the author said that sometimes her angels wake her up in the middle of the night to tell her important things. Apparently my angels woke me up this morning to tell me to eat a bowl of Peanut Butter Puffins and finally start blogging.  I'm somewhat of a virgin blogger but have been journaling since i was eight. my very first journal, a small, fake denim  book, once had a tiny gold lock, whose whereabouts are unknown. not a problem, since the plastic strip holding the thing together has since been cut, making my deepest childhood thoughts a veritable public free-for-all. page one begins with this literary masterpiece, "mommy was being very mean today." mom, if you're reading this it probably had something to do with adam.  adam, if you're reading this you probably took something that was a. mine or b. perceived by me to be mine. just remember that i was, and always will be the oldest child and therefore, the "boss of you."  shelby, leslie and sarah, you can all calm down as none of you were even born yet, but thanks for reading this and for all your love and support. i love you all to death :) dad, i love you too, you just weren't involved in this particular crisis.

as i begin to fade, i realize that early morning blogging may not be the best idea for a non-morning person and therefore may not produce the best material. but i (with the help of my angels, thank you very much) am committed to writing every day.  a writer i was once in love with put it quite succinctly; "if you want to do something well, do it every day." somehow the simplicity masking the profundity of that statement makes it hard for many would-be writers to digest. it's not enough to read about writing or talk about writing. writers must actually, by definition, write.

so while i admit whole-heartedly that late night/early morning blogging is a rather humble start, it's a start nonetheless. and you know that cool thing that famous guy said about the first step, right? good, 'cuz i can't remember.  but as soon as my peanut-butter angel gets cozy on my left shoulder (isn't the angel on the left? and when we view them on t.v. it's "my right, your left?") the devil on my other shoulder thinks he's funny and causes the battery symbol on my mc laptop to flash the scary red color.  to a person less lazy than myself,  this may mean it's time to get off their ass and find the damn power cord. but to yours truly, an obviously more enlightened being, it merely means it's nigh-night time.  and besides, my puppy chewed the cord and it's currently being held together by black electrical tape.  ok, so i've been mildly electrocuted a handful of times but hey, i'm quite the dedicated writer and the show, as they say, must go on.  more on electrocution and dedication to a cause tomorrow.  from me and my angels, goodnight :)