See, this is what I was afraid of.

So my friend sez to me, she sez "How I make you a blog?". An' I sez, sure, why not, it can't be so hard to write down random thoughts every so often, can it? But meanwhile I'm thinking "I don't really do the diary thing so much, I'm not so good at regularily replying to long emails -- what's to stop this from becoming just another correspondance I have to keep up once the new&excitingness has worn off?"

And lo and behold, my fears have been upheld. I'm not really a creative person, if I am it's in spurts. But I feel bad when I don't update at least, say, once a week, because I know how it feels to want to see an update on a friend's page, and be constantly disappointed.

Trouble is, I don't have a very interesting life. I mean I'm busy -- but I'm not one of those people whom stuff happens to. The guy (John) I had up to the QCF retreat (which went fine, although we had waaaay too much food) has had nine near death experiences. Nine! And he's thirty-two! He's been in a Hurricane, had his car picked up by a tornado, been caught between a love triangle gunfight in Bolivia, been attacked by a shark, woken up with a black bear licking his cheek, and fought a forest fire (however, he has not, as far as I know, been fired from a fry cook opportunity ;).

Point is, stuff happens to this guy. On the plane home to Calgary, he sat next to a guy from Nigeria who talked about his sausage factory for four hours. Yes, I know that would be terribly boring, but still -- who sits next to a guy from Nigeria on a plane from Toronto to Calgary?? Also, John is a great storyteller -- funny, good sense of pacing, knows when to end it and where to put the punchline.

I am not a great storyteller, nor does interesting stuff happen to me. If I had been on that flight, I would have sat next to some white guy and we wouldn't have said anything beyond "Hello."

Sometimes I have interesting thoughts. And I write about those. But when I'm not having interesting thoughts, since I don't have an interesting life or a funny way of describing things, I try not to inflict those who read this post with too much inanity.

But I feel guilty for not posting more.

So I'm stuck.

Perhaps I should take up tornado-chasing as a career...