It’s been a long time since I’ve written. I didn’t think I would miss it, but I do. When I stopped writing I thought “I’m tired of writing for everyone else; I’ll just write in a journal, just for me.” My assumption was that my blog was for a public audience (it was) and that its only purpose was for that audience. I now realize that it wasn’t.

I love writing. There, I’ve said it. I never really admitted it because I never thought I was any good at it. Now that I think about it, it was the reason I started blogging back in 2003.

What I love more than writing is storytelling. Who doesn’t love a good story? I have, on several occasions, chosen the road less traveled not with the hope of improving myself but simply because it would make for a great story. I’m not against character building; I just want to be able to say, “let me tell you about the time…”

Have I ever told you about the time I was on the radio in Belize with the ad hoc ‘band’ GCDC?

What about the time I got stuck for three very, very cold days in Kyrgyzstan?

Ask me about where I was when: The Towers fell, we lost Columbia, we got Bin Laden…

Remind me to tell you about the questionable Sushi/Coffee House I used to frequent in Denton.

Have I ever told you about the exact moment that God whispered to me “I love you“?

I’ve got a lot more stories to tell. Not just to entertain you, but to remind me of what an amazing life I have. It’s not so much the ‘doing‘ but rather the ‘being‘ that is pretty cool. I’m just as happy that I’ve cooked dinner and done laundry at home (my hobbies have certainly changed over the past ten years) than that I’ve traveled around the world. Don’t get me wrong, one is definitely more exciting than the others, but at the end of the day I’m just as glad that I’ve done them.