First Post with Nothing to Say

I wake up every morning at seven thirty. On the dot. My dog [whinewhinewhine] insists upon it. And at that time when I rise from my bed, when I complain that my bed is way too high up, there are things swimming in my head, ideas floating in the grey matter packed into my skull. It is one fifty-nine in the afternoon. I have nothing to say. Watching episodes of Maury on Hulu, waiting for my mother to call up that I need to do the dishes/laundry/dog manure outside/any other random chore, I have the urge to write but I don't have inspiration enough to write about anything at all.

I'm Shaylee, as far as you can be concerned, I have no last name. Like Madonna. Wait, bad example. I would narrate the day's events for you, but I can't for fear that, if there is anyone out there reading this, you would very soon hang yourself out of sympathy for my uneventful life. Dear goodness, I'm writing a blog of fluff.

I have no social commentary. J.K. Rowling took rather good care of that, didn't she? Sorry, Harry Potter reference. I'm chalk full of those. I went to Europe for twelve days, and one of the girls in our group, she was also a Sorcerer's Stoner, and wouldn't you know we found a way to tie Harry Potter everywhere. We went to St. Pancras Station in London. Sorry to say, we got a lot of dirty looks from a lot of people. Maybe the refs were a bit much, but we couldn't help ourselves.

Kids have no business having sex. When we live in a society where a thirteen-year-old is getting a girl pregnant, we should definitely stop and take a moment to think about the values we're trying to pass on and whether or not we're doing an adequate job of it.

Okay, that was boarderline incisive. I'm rather proud of myself. Anyway, welcome to my blog, Botching It and in the future I'm sure I'll have more to say. Or less, depending on how badly I screw up future projects. My next one is just cleaning my room. Ugh. After that comes the fun stuff.

xoxo