Let Me Tell You a Story

There once was a young woman, with fair enough features and a love affair with writing. She decided to try her hand at html and the internet and started her very own blog. She named it Hindsight because she found comfort and solace in being able to recount embarrassing and sometime painful moments in her life for a group of encouraging fellow bloggers. As her "followers" grew, her admiration for the blog grew as well. (And she would like to add how much she detests the term "followers." She is not the leader of a cult). Finally she had found an audience, albeit small. She was ever so thankful for those who visited her humble area of self expression.

But, as this young woman well knows and I'm sure you do as well, no story worth its salt is without conflict. Deadlines arouse, plane tickets for quick trips were purchased, and viruses and bacterial infections plagued her poor, defenseless body. She was left with aches, fevers and ears so full of fluid she could only sit quietly in restaurants, with all their background noise, and nod politely while everyone enjoyed lively conversation. And it was because of those ghastly distractions that her blog fell by the way side. Embarrassingly, she was hardly even able to read her dear friends' posts. The less she wrote and read, the less she thought about that virtual world she had created and the harder it was to bring herself to post again.

This particular young woman, however, isn't one to be defeated by finals, distractions, exhaustion, illness, or even the evil Sir Eliot. She rose above adversity (and got an A in Creative Writing by the way), pulled herself up by her high heels and sat down once again to type a cheerful greeting and regret of her prolonged absence to all of her beloved blogosphere friends.

She promises to visit more regularly, post lovely stories and insights into her sometime humdrum, sometimes exciting life and to update all of her friends of her goings-on. But not tonight, dear reader. Tonight, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy are drawing our young woman's attentions elsewhere. And at that I, and our young woman, bid you adieu.