So... I started a blog.

Why?

Well, why not?

It's something.

It's writing. Something I have been doing precious little of these days. I feel guilty about that.

For a while there I was really into the swing of it. I didn't have to force myself. I didn't have three thousand excuses as to why now wasn't a good time to sit down and write. I didn't spend countless hours doing nothing, but pretending it was something, so as to avoid the dreaded blank page and blinking cursor.

But I digress. Here I am. Starting a blog so at least I will write something. Even if it's just the mindless ramblings and venting of my day to day life.

You probably want to know something about me. So here's the very basic rundown:

My name is Kylie, but if you call me that you might get hurt. I go by Ky. Remember that. I know you value your limbs and I don't really wanna end up in jail for gross bodily harm.

Me. I'm on the right. 

First and foremost I am a mom. Of three children. At age thirty-two. How in god's name did that happen? One of them just turned ten. Ten. I have been a mom for a decade. It still boggles my mind considering I still see myself as the hip, twenty-one year old with all the time in the world. But I wouldn't change it for a second. Well..maybe a few seconds. I could have lived without the poop painting incident(s). And the Crisco waxed car bed. For months I was cleaning that shit up. The Crisco, not the shit. The shit was surprisingly easy to remove. *shudder*

Definitely could have lived without this. 

I'm a wife. To a lovable and infuriating man. I'm a stark raving mad liberal. He's a staunch republican - although I tend to think it's more in name, than in deed. He like hair bands, country and AC/DC. Give me Radiohead, Midnight City and a heavy dose of hip-hop. I like large cities, he likes small towns. If I say the sky is blue, he will undoubtedly tell me it's red. It's how we roll. And it works. Yin meets Yang in a surprisingly laid back and untroubled way. That's not to say you won't here me rambling about what an ass he is. It's really kind of my job. And he'd expect nothing less.

I'm a daughter. I'm a sister. I'm a friend. I'm a social secretary and an office manager.

But damn it! I am a writer too! And this is what this blog is for. A gentle nudge, perhaps a not so subtle shove, I hope, back into the direction of which I have always been called but never had the balls (for lack of a better word) to fully pursue.

Writing is hard. But so is the feeling of living in limbo. A pile of unfinished novels and story ideas sitting at my fingertips.

So, a writer I will be.

I expect you, faithful readers, to remind me of this when I come to you with excuses and attempts at procrastination.

I am the Commander of these words.

I am the King of this story.

I am the God of this place.

I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started. 

-Chuck Wendig

Amen, Chuck. Amen.