Red Camaro

I saw a red Camaro today and I thought of you.
Some days I don't, but today I did.
It wasn't the anniversary or your birthday.
It was just a normal Thursday in a normal work week.
But I saw a red Camaro and I thought of you.
I wondered where you'd be and what you'd be doing.
What kind of job you'd have.
Then I thought you'd probably be in our wedding.
If you were still here.
I saw a red Camaro today and I thought of you.
And I missed you.

The Beginning

I've finally given in to blogging.

In middle school, everyone had a xanga or a livejournal or some other online medium of expression. Older readers may not remember this, as I think the trend began and ended swiftly. Or maybe it was a regional phenomenon special to growing up in the slow pace of the Shore. Regardless, I was a xanga queen.

I have to be honest:  I stumbled across my xanga login information recently and went to the page to take a look at my writings. After reading and laughing hysterically at several pages of what seemed like endless teenage angst, I promptly deleted the site. I wonder now, in starting this blog, if a future 40 year old version of myself might re-discover it and laugh at what I now find to be so important.

Nevertheless, I blog.