I have a blog? This turn of rather mundane events is something I never saw myself doing, never much saw the point to it.  But now I'm here, on a lazy Saturday, staring down a blinking cursor and thinking this might be much harder than I had thought.  I've been kicking around this idea for quite some time, but actually doing it seems almost surreal, because seriously, I have a blog?

Thanks, tequila in my coffee, for getting me into this. 

I think (or rather, am slowly realizing) that this trepidation stems from what I so desperately think I want from this whole process.  I'll start a blog, will become famous, will quit my job that gives me high blood pressure and will be paid to eat, drink, write and be merry!!  The original idea for this blog was to be a restaurant review site, to dip my toe into that arena because wouldn't it be great to be a restaurant critic?  A blog has to have a point, a unifying theme, it has to be about something, right?  The more I thought, and the more I wrote in my head, I realized I am not that organized and I have more to say (ramble about?).  I don't want to have to not write about books, about yoga, about mustard I just made.  Do I still in my imagination and crazy dreams want to be the bastard combination of The Bloggess and Anthony Bourdain and shit let's just throw a dash of Amanda Palmer in there for fun, hell yes.  Do I honestly think a blog will get me there? Probably not, not without more luck than any one person has and a decent amount of bribery (who would I bribe? I have no idea, I'm just assuming there's somebody).  Will I most likely continue my job as a computer programmer and happily go about my 30-something life with zero changes and slowly post less and less? Absolutely.

Instead of fame and fortune and a contract with Food and Wine magazine, I'll aim for becoming a better writer and maybe having a small outlet for the words that bounce around in my head.  Maybe I will review a restaurant now and then, for giggles.  

Not that I'd turn down Food and Wine magazine if they came knocking .... or Conde Nast Traveler.  They're all welcome to call.