I think people might want me to blog.
No. Seriously. I was surprised too. I know, I know, you’re wondering, “who are these “people” you speak of, Kayla?” And “are they like your work-out regimen or ability to maintain a lasting relationship?” No, actually, unlike those things, these people exist. And the conversations go a little something like this:
“Are you going to keep blogging? I loved that one where you humiliated yourself (so, all of them?) Especially that one where everybody finds out you’re a stripper.”
“IT WAS A FITNESS CLASS,” my left eye twitches in Morse code as I smile complacently. They carry on, feigning a sincere interest in my writing to conceal their ravenous hunger for the incriminating personal anecdotes I am strangely more inclined to document on the internet than share in real life.
What happens to a blog specifically created to document study-abroad adventures when the writer finds herself back in the Biggest Little City in the World?
Well, aside from a substantial hiatus, a revelation.
After not one but three harrowing incidences of strangers brazenly laughing at me after witnessing some of my dancing, I realized something. It’s not the place that provides the content, Kayla….it’s you…and your crippling inability to function normally in society.
So, will I keep blogging? Let me ask you this: Will I continue to publicly embarrass myself with alarming frequency?
You can bet my dancing ass I will.
Silver linings, friends. I’m back.