Autobiography

I'm pretty disappointed that I didn't do my annual "yearly review" when the new year began since it has been my tradition for the past million years, but oh well. When did something so important to me (like documenting a year in the life) just suddenly doesn't matter to me anymore? I don't know if I like that or not. The other day I got really nostalgic about my childhood, specifically my time spent in Ford City, and I got really upset thinking about how things have changed and I don't know if it has been a good change or not. More good than bad, certainly, but the family is even dramatically different...it's just a weird feeling. The fact that I didn't even get to spend Christmas with either side of the family (with the exception of the two families that live within 10 minutes of me) due to weather and other complications...I would never have agreed to that even months ago. I don't know...life is just so crazy sometimes.

I feel weird writing this blog post right now because we're talking about blogging in my Autobiography class and the reasons or motives behind the blogger--whether it's egotistical or a cry for attention or if it's just to document every little thing you do each day ("Today, I woke up and then I brushed my teeth. I made a bagel in the toaster with cream cheese. I walked to class and....."). And is it worth reading? Do you have to be a celebrity or someone with authority to be "worthy?" And I wondered about my motives in writing this blog. I don't feel like I'm particularly egotistical or anything...at least I hope not! I don't want the whole world to read this, but yet I want a few people to. It's rather paradoxical. I think it also has to do with the fact that things are so fast-paced nowadays that it's easier and more efficient to type everything out than to write it down in a notebook. (Sad.)

Now I don't even feel like finishing this post. There is some rendition of "Man, I Feel Like a Woman" coming through my wall that I can't concentrate. More later. :)