Your Narrator, In Her Youth(I don't have any photos handy of me at the age of one, okay?)
And so a year has passed since my first foray into blogging - a shite post about a shite weekend, which is as boring to read as it was to write. The label on it neatly sums up my original motivation for starting the blog; I was bored. I discovered blogging in February of last year - I googled something, ended up on Twenty's blog, started reading it and when I had read it in its entirety (I mean his blog, not the post) I moved on to the others he had links to. The one that stuck was Annie Rhiannon's - having harboured notions of myself as a literary genius for as long as I remember, I read hers and thought "I could do that?". And so I did.
Nobody read it, not for ages; I found that very disheartening.
Now you do, and that makes my day.
