What do I know?

So here I am, of all the people I know, unquestionably the person with the most to say - or at least, the most talking to do - and yet when I sit down with this blog, finally an outlet for the multitude of words that pour out of my 120-wpm-typin'-fool fingers, I can't think of a thing to write about. It's like those awful creative writing exercises: "Write 500 words on any topic you want..." Sounds great until you actually have to do it. Apparently, I need boundaries.

They (The Writing Authorities) say you should write about what you know. Oooookay... it's not that I know that much, it's that it still doesn't narrow the field quite enough for me to get started. I know a little about a lot of things, and a lot about a very few things...that doesn't leave me with much guidance for blogging. I suppose once I get accustomed to this, there'll be more of a daily stream-of-experiences that will trigger the muse, but today I feel chatty and actually have a few extra minutes while my baby girl naps, so I hate to waste the opportunity. But, what to write? Well, what do I know?

I know that it's a BEAUTIFUL day outside, finally a reprieve from the 100-degree weather we've been having. I know that I loved the heat and humidity when I lived in Houston, but for some reason, 100+ temps in Washington, DC have considerably less appeal. I know that I miss Houston from time to time, and I know that that is one sentiment I never thought I'd utter. When I moved to Houston, I thought it was the most awful city I'd ever lived in...well, it was, actually, if you strictly go by the "I'd ever lived in" criterion. It was dirty, hot, concrete, seemingly vegetation-free, crowded in spite of its ridiculous vastness (who defines a city with a 90-mile radius?), and chaotically random as a result of its infamous lack-of-zoning-laws approach to urban development. Yet, after four years and a lot of time spent locating little patches of exceptions to the rules, I came to love it so much I hated to leave. But leave I did, to marry the most wonderful guy in the world, and now I'm back in the political hotbed of America, living a stone's throw outside the Beltway, hating it only when the temperatures drop below 50.

But I digress. Or is that the point, really, of a blog? Does this newfound bulletin board for thought give stream-of-consciousness writing some kind of grassroots legitimacy? Aw geez, now I've waxed philosophic. Not my intent! Let's resume the accounting of what I know. The list is longer than I'll manage to address today, of course, but let's tick off a few others that are at the tip of my brain this idyllic afternoon:

I know that green is a great color, on me, on the trees, on the walls of my office, and on the bridesmaid dress I'll wear this Fall when my little sister gets married.
I know that my daughter has a smile that can absolutely undo everything wrong in the world in less than 2 seconds.
I know that I don't have nearly enough time to devote to something as relatively silly as blogging, and yet it holds a strange, magnetic attraction that I sense will end up consuming much of time, even if I have to borrow it from my sleeping hours.
I know that my husband is way cooler than I generally admit to him.
I know that the quality of television programming has sunk to levels that constantly have me itching to sell all my TVs, and yet, I spend at least 10 hours a week watching anyway.
I know that actor Andy Thacher is destined for greatness. Mark my words and this date on the calendar, folks, 'cause when he breaks and you all suddenly know who he is and worship the boards he treads, remember where you heard it first.
I know that my dogs are two of the cutest and coolest animals on the planet. They're not too small, they're not too big, they're not yappy, they're not gonna win any contests, and they are totally content to just lie on the cool tile and nap.
I know that my parents love me.
I know that the Degree Ultra clear deodorant really doesn't leave marks on my clothes. Huh.
I know that I'm beginning to bore even myself with this list, and that must signal that it's time to wrap it up.

Well, I feel better for having written something. I like that I can give myself a little mental and digital exercise (that's "digital" in the finger-joint sense), and not have spent any money doing it. Heck, I love that. What's better than free entertainment that simultaneously whiles away the day and keeps your cognitive faculties sharpened? Hot dog, I've found a new hobby.

And with that, my little darling awakens from her nap, and I must return to real life. Good day!