First time for everything

My first pang of homesickness happened today and it went like this:

I spent a couple hours in the book store this morning reading the times and drinking coffee. Someone on the sidewalk was smoking a pipe and I got to savor the smell of it every time someone walked in Barnes and Noble. Then I went and bought shoes. Then I went on a mini photo walk by myself.

Then I came home, and I was hungry.

And then I thought this: "I want a grilled cheese. Actually, I want Moms grilled cheese."

So obviously I can't have grilled cheese now because it just won't be the same.

Welcome back

I want to write things because I hope people will want to read things. But that doesn't make sense. And that is why, every time I start typing in this tiny box, I stop typing, because I don't feel like I can write very well any more.

I do feel like I'm good at: taking pictures, watching project runway, living alone, being in Chicago, internet stalking, thinking bad things about boys fashion, etc.

But I like writing, and I miss writing, and now I'm in an English class so I will be writing more, and I plan on doing it here.

So, if you're here, and you're bored, I'm sorry. I can't promise my writing won't be boring, but I guess I am promising that it will be here.