An Intricate Beginning.

I have spent an inordinate amount of time trying to conceive the perfect beginning to this blog. For the past three months I have had the most restricting of writers block, the kind that seems to diminish any hope one ever had of becoming a writer. I must admit that I haven’t had very much time to sit down with a pad and paper, jotting out ideas for this ambitious little web-log of mine.

Believe it or not, I come from a family of writers. I would imagine that these writers have also suffered from the infamous block, and alas all seemed to have prevailed. So there is hope for me yet.

What I am so stuck on, so timorous about is the basis of I’m Not Getting Fat In Italy. Is a blog simply supposed to be one’s diary, displayed for the entire world to read? If so, you all would be reading about my undying love for my 9^th grade math teacher, or how concerned I am about my dog Noah’s hot spot.

Or is a blog intended to be a source of information? In that case, this beginning would seem to be rather simple. I am spending a year abroad in Perugia, Italy. I am writing down what I see, hear, smell, taste, learn, etc. I am providing all of you that read this blog (Hi Mom, Hi Grandma!) of my whereabouts and general information about Italian and American relations. It sounds clear-cut enough.

But if we’re being honest here (I do believe we are, considering it is my blog) and honesty is a virtue, then I will admit I find comfort in being entertained. Shouldn’t a blog also incorporate humor, humility and other glorious sentiments, into it’s writing? One would hope so. Life can sometimes seem rather drab and at times we need funny little stories and anecdotes to make us feel better.

Having just reread what I’ve written here, it seems as if I’ve only just complicated my thought process even more. Now what was a simple straightforward fact blog is tainted with the expectancy of amusement.

Hmm. I guess the uncertainty comes with the reality that it’s my first time at this. I have never blogged before—I’ve been working it with journals since the 2^nd grade. But bear with me O.K.? I promise to write with my whole heart and to have my Grandmother spell/grammar check everything.

I obviously don’t know what I want this blog to be, nor do I know how I want to present it, BUT I do know the one thing that I feel ardently about: I am not getting fat in Italy.