Opening Lines

You may well be put off by the audacity of anyone who refers to herself as "Queen of the Universe, Ruler of All," and I would not blame you. If you stick with me, however, I trust you will find that my self-confidence--while fully intact--is well-informed by the many realities of life that one acquires in 49 years (as of last month). Presumably, said self-confidence will be better informed with the passing of time and if (when?) I no longer find myself entertained by said appellation, I vow to discontinue using it.

So, who am I to start a blog? That very question has kept me from the venture for quite some time (along with the question, what would I call it?). Let's see: I'm a mom--definitely the first role that comes to mind when I attempt to catalogue myself to myself--I'm a wife, a teacher, a soccer player (well, more on that later), a historian . . . and a daughter, sister, friend, lover of nature and life. I often say to my students (high schoolers) "I crack myself up!" and I want my tombstone to read, "She was always fair . . . and a lot of fun!" Not much else comes to mind when I think of what might be useful for folks to know about me. So maybe I am also a fairly uncomplicated person--which, I hope, does not also mean "boring" (and be sure to think that in the way we all know it to be said these days, "Bor-Ing!!"

So (see how much I like that word) here I am, writing to no one and maybe someone, mostly to myself--this specific web-based activity does require a certain degree of chutzpah, doesn't it? Do mostly other bloggers read one's blog, I wonder--a sort of electonic endogamy, as it were, incestuous to some degree? Not that I really care, frankly, because this is clearly (I'm discovering as I write) the only fun existentialism I've ever known. (And you have to imgaine me, writing and typing this, with my 6 year old daughter begging, and singing in a sing-song voice for me to "PPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEE go outside with me!!" to understand how my life unfolds. Is it any wonder that I find my life entertaining?)

If you have stuck with me this far, thanks. More to come--unless I forget.