Day One: The first day of my life

People decide to start blogs for all sorts of reasons. Some of them are deep–like, these people are so damn brilliant and creative that their art just begged to be converted into html and placed on the corkboard of cyberspace. (I’m kidding, of course; everyone knows that cyberspace is more of a ‘picture on the fridge’ kind of place.) Others seem to have reached a point in their frustration where the only remedy (apart from extensive professional therapy) is to write it all in their little online journal. Actually, some people just have very good ideas. Or the ability to cook. Or a million photos of cats doing hilarious things.

So why am I here today? Well, I do have a collection of creative arty things, some of which may even be not shit. I could post them, but I actually value my dignity. I do love a good rage blog, particularly one written almost entirely in caps, but I’m only angry when I drive and MOBILE PHONES AND DRIVING MAKE PEOPLE DEAD. I have ideas, mostly about stuff that I want to cook but lack the skill to execute. I mean that in the sense of ‘carry out’ rather than ‘kill with fire’–I’m good at the second one. And I don’t do cats. My apologies to 90 per cent of the internet. It’s not you; it’s me. (It’s totally you. Cats suck.)

I, dear friends/enemies/admirers (hi, Mum), chose this auspicious day to begin my journey into the blogosphere because today is the first day of my life.

(Full disclosure: it’s also the day the internet was turned on.)

(Actual full disclosure: the internet went on a week ago, but I finished uni for good yesterday and have what I’ve heard referred to as ‘free time’.)