My Morning Coffee

My morning coffee
It comes to greet me
Ever so sweetly,
Like a long lost friend
With a kiss on the cheek.

Such a relaxing way
To start my day.
If it's early and quiet enough.

Nightmares

Do not make me sleep alone tonight
I fear, if you are not by my side,
I may not survive.
My past, it haunts me,
In nightmares unexplainable.
Reminders of what was, what never was
And what will never be.

I cannot escape my past,
It follows me,
Even as I sleep.

But with your arms around me tight,
I find the courage to face the night.
You make me feel strong,
I know I am safe.
Please do not leave me,
Not in this place.
Not in this world of nightmares galore,
So realistic I think I am already awake.

So wrap your arms around me,
Baby hold me tight.
With you by my side,
Everything is right.

S'more Nachos

About a year and a half ago, my best friend came home for the first time after months of being in military school. Knowing she was only home for a few days and that soon we would be limited to writing letters as our only form of communication, we made the best of the time we had while she was home.
Her first night back, she introduced me to something wonderful that you wouldn't expect one to learn at military school- S'more Nachos.
She shares this amazing creation with me, and now I am going to share it with you.

What you will need:
1 cake/brownie pan (size doesn't matter. If you want lots of nachos, use a big pan, if you only want a little, use a little pan.
Graham crackers
Hershey's king size chocolate bars
Marshmellows

Prep:
1. Line the bottom of the pan with graham crackers
2. Cover the Graham crackers with chocolate
3. Top the chocolate with marshmallows
4. Repeat steps 1-3 into satisfied

Cooking:
1. Place pan in oven at 350
2. Bake for 10 minutes

Serve:
1. Using a spatula or fork, break it into pieces
2. Using fingers, spoons, forks or ladles, dig in and enjoy a little taste of heaven.

The People We Use To Be

Whether it's morning, afternoon or night,
If I'm waking you up,
You want to fight.
I try to talk it out,
You shut me down,
But get upset when I don't want to talk.

What happened to the days spent texting?
The nights of phone calls past 3 am?
What happened to joking?
To looking before you react?
To "Good morning beautiful"
And "Goodnight, I love you"?

I miss the days without all the stress.
When expectations weren't unreachably high
And all the double standards didn't apply.
I miss the days when we didn't get mad,
We just thought before speaking...
And we understood.

What happened to dreaming impossible dreams?
To achieving the unachievable things?
What happened to sticking together,
Though all the odds were piled against us?

Now that we have reached our dreams,
Achieved what we set out to achieve,
Now that the odds are in our favor
And no one stands in our way,
Does that mean we must stop dreaming?
Stop setting goals to achieve?
Must we now fail apart,
Refuse to defy the odds?

What happened to the people we used to be?
And please, please tel me,
What the hell has taken over our bodies?

Conversations with Children

The following conversations are between my niece (2), my nephew (3) and I. Because I have yet to put my name in any online posts, I'm not sure if I am comfortable posting their names either. So, for now, they will be known as "Princess" and "Dinosaur".

Princess: Water spin? (Keep in mind, she is two, and this sounded more like "What er spi?)

Me: What?
Princess: Water spin?
Me: Water?
Princess: Yea. Water spin.
Me: You want to spin with the water?
Princess: Yea!
Me: No, you can't spin with the water.
Princess: Why?
Me: Because, Princess, it'll spill.
Princess: Spill?
Me: Yea. Spill.
Princess: Oh...

Dinosaur: *brings me a chip* This one's yucky.
Me: It's yucky?
Dinosaur: Yea.
Me: It's okay. You don't have to eat that one.
Dinosaur: No, I want you to eat it.

Dinosaur: The trex! The trex is coming!
Me: It is?
Dinosaur: No! It's a triceratops!
Me: Oh okay.
Dinosaur: I want you boom it!
Me: You want me to boom it?
Dinosaur: Yea, I want you boom the triceratops.
Me: Okay. *Maybe two minutes later*
Dino: No! Don't kill the triceratops. I want you get the trex!

Afraid

You wonder why I get so upset
When you act like that.
You get mad,
You call me a smart ass.
But, honestly, you scare me.
You don't know it,
But you do.
When you do these things, even accidentally,
It reminds me of my parents,
And how they used to be.
I don't ever want to he like that
And, baby, It truly scares me.
I don't want to yell, to scream, to fight,
I don't want to cry myself to sleep
Every night.
I don't want to live in fear
Whenever you are here.
Why can't you see
What you're doing to me?
I feel like I'm losing you.
You're changing into someone
Someone I don't know
I'm losing you
And, baby, it scares me.

Going Somewhere

Waking up,
It's a quarter after noon.
He pulls on his socks
And looks for his shoes.
Where is he going?
Not even he knows.
Anywhere but here,
Or so he hopes.

Waking up early,
It's 5:30 in the morning.
She's in no hurry,
But rushes to get ready.
Purposefully avoiding the bus,
She walks the other way
And begins her day
Walking to school in the cold.

They don't know what they're doing
No clue where they're going.
Are we even going anywhere?
They wonder as the walk down a road
Clearly labeled no where.

Life is like any other story
With a beginning, middle and end.
Its what you do with your middle that matters,
It's not important where you begin.
Just make the most of it
And don't worry, baby,
Nobody's perfect.

2 am

2 am can be for company,
For those who are wild, crazy and free.
2 am is also for the lonesome,
Even if their loneliness is temporary.
2 am is for the faithful,
For those who will never leave.
2 am is for the thoughtful,
For those with thoughts that won't go away.
2 am is for artwork and writing,
Exciting drives and trips to Wal-Mart.
It is for walking downtown,
When you're feeling dangerous.
It is not for those who just lay around.

I Wouldn't Change a Thing

Sitting on the floor
In a room full of color,
I think about the past,
About the life I could've had.
So many things
That could've ended better.
I'm not asking for a happily ever after,
Just a childhood a little bit less
Like a Steven King novel.

Daddy, my daddy,
Why did you have to drink?
You could've stopped,
You could've waited,
You know you're violent when drunk.
Mommy and daddy,
They threw it all away.
Couldn't break through the addiction
To save their little girls from a whole lot of pain
Even on Christmas day.

18 houses in 18 years,
Always moving around,
Never staying in one place.
Just long enough to breathe.
To get a grasp on this tornado called life,
Just to have it start back up again.

Every form of abusive
From every direction.
Scared and threatened,
Becoming courageous,
Retreating into a skin so outrageous
She doesn't even recognize her self.

But if Daddy hadn't drank,
Mommy wouldn't have left him.
She wouldn't have remarried
And they never would be moved around.
If any one of these things,
Even the fight on Christmas morning,
Hadn't gone the way it did,
She wouldn't have met her Prince Charming
And wouldn't be living happily ever after.

In a story so rare,
A miracle happened.
A nightmare became a dream,
And she moved on
To do wonderful things.

Carrot Stick or Cupcake

Carrot stick,
Cupcake,
Or nothing at all?
Today,
Will I choose healthy,
Or will I say forget it all?
I try not to let it get to me,
When people tell me I'm too skinny.
Or when others give me looks
And say I'm starting to get a belly.
I've been there before,
Where I let it all affect me.

Trying to cover up
My strange behavior with lies,
Eating food just to kill time,
Or skipping meals daily,
In hopes I'll starve myself just enough
Without losing myself completely.

I don't understand
Why people can't just accept me as I am.
If I'm healthy
And I'm happy,
Just let your opinions go unsaid
And remind me that you love me.

I am human,
I promise you I am.
I know I act as though it doesn't,
But your words just slowly kill me.
Slicing like a knife
Through every part of my being.
Just leave me alone
Or lose me completely.

The Artist

Graphite stains my fingertips,
As once again,
I return to it.
The same place I always go,
Whenever my hopes get a little low.

I put the pencil to the paper,
Lets take things slow.
No more than an hour,
But I already know.
In a week's time,
I will be left behind.
And what moves on is a different me: the artistic side.

I find comfort in knowing,
It has returned.
My form of expression,
The one I have learned.

It keeps me up all night,
I stay occupied during the day.
People start to ask themselves-
"Is she okay?"
With fingertips black,
Clothes covered in paint.
She tells them "I'm an artist"
Then whispers to herself,
"Don't you know? I'm never okay."

Some days it makes me happy,
More joyful than ever.
But I know,
Eventually,
I will slip.
I will return to that dark place.

I am an artist,
Will I ever truly be okay?

My Artwork: Sushi

My favorite food, on paper <3

A Welcome Betrayal

Lighting the last cigarette,
It always feels so familiar.
Just as stressful as the first,
Relaxing as the second,
Easy as the hundredth.

Fitting perfectly in my fingertips
I feel the betrayal in that very first kiss.
I tell myself,
I swear,
I promise,
No more after this.
This is my first last cigarette.

My second last cigarette,
I know I'll do it this time.
To break another promise to myself,
Now that would be a crime.
After just one hit,
Inhale,
Blow out...
I already miss it.
The feeling of knowing
I'm killing myself slowly...

My third last cigarette,
The third times the charm.
I know I will, I do.
This time,
I have another person to be accountable to.
And I'm telling you, my love,
I promise, this will be my last last one.

But days and months,
Then years go by.
I still see that cigarette,
Out of the corner of my eye.

Just one more first time,
Just one more betrayal.
It calls,
Beckons,
Begs me
To set it aflame.
To remind myself,
I welcomed the betrayal
Within that first kiss.

My Artwork: Lead Me to the Cross

A little over a year ago, I was in one of my creative moods, but I was lacking inspiration. So, in an effort to cure me of my "artists' block", I put in my head phones and put my phones music selection on shuffle. Sitting on my bed, sketch book and pencil in hand, I began drawing random lines. When I came to this song (Lead Me to the Cross by Hillsong United), I knew I had it- my inspiration. Music had once again cured me.

Growing Up

I came to a realization the other day.
I now understand something new
And it makes me pretty sad.
I knew that life flew by so very fast,
But I've never seen It this way before.
The future is knocking,
Pounding,
Pushing down my door.

I'm an adult,
But my mother doesn't see me this way.
In her eyes,
I'm still that little baby she held
On the vert first day.
The first day of my life.
The first page of my story

I don't have children of my own,
There is no baby of mine for me to hold.
But, with my niece and nephew,
I will be the same way.

I will always see my oldest nephew
As the little boy I took care of
While his mommy was sick.
The baby who slept in my bed,
Played my guitar,
And woke up at 3 in the morning,
Crying for me.
The two year old who tried to sing along with veggie tales,
Even though he could barely speak.

And then,
My little dinosaur lover.
The one who said he was in love with me,
And claimed that, one day, he would marry me.
He will always be
That little baby,
Laying on the floor,
The day I was forced to say goodbye.
The one who became attached to me,
The moment I came back.

And then, my niece,
My little baby girl.
The one who dresses as a princess
To go play dinosaurs.
Sitting in the backseat,
Singing her little heart out.
Knocking on my door,
In the morning around four,
Wanting me to fill her sippee cup
With just a little more.

And then the baby baby.
I was there the day he was born.
His eyes stared into mine,
As his tiny hands
Grasped my finger,
With a grip so tight,
For one so little.
I woke up every time you cried,
I changed your diapers,
Made your bottle,
And rocked you till you fell asleep,
Safe and warm,
On the chair with me.

With eyes full of wonder,
You four stole my heart.
With a fifth on the way,
I'll still spoil you all.

But here's what I realized,
Let me tell you what broke my heart.
When you are older,
After you've graduated,
And you're married,
When you have nieces and nephews of your own.
You aren't going to need me.
Not at three in the morning when you can't sleep,
You won't need me to pick out your clothes,
Or get you a drink.
The only princesses and dinosaurs
Will be for the children
You have of your own.

One day you won't need me,
And that's what breaks my heart.
But I will still be here for you,
Whenever the night is too dark.

When you are tired,
And they need you.
When you're confused,
And don't know what to do,
Once again, I will be the auntie who saves the day.

So now I want to say thank you,
To my mom and dad,
Aunts and uncles,
My grandparents,
And every family member who was there from day one.
I just want to say thank you.
Thank you,
And I'm sorry for growing up.

Love and Pride

I promise I don't want to fight,
I don't mean to sound defensive.
In my mind,
You sound as though your attacking me,
And pride takes over my whole body.

I know I make mistakes
And I know that I am not perfect.
I only want to talk to you,
Baby, I promise, you're worth it.

The arguments
The fights
It seems like they happen all the time.
I just want it to go away.

I don't mean to make you angry,
I never meant to hurt you.
I hope you believe me,
When I tell you that I am so, so sorry.

There's a reason I never tell you,
Why I try not to let you know,
Just how much you've hurt me.
I promise, you don't want to know.

I know you didn't mean to,
That's why I don't hold it against you.
I know you love me
And want the best for me,
Just know, I want the same for you.

I've said it before,
But I can't say it enough.
Baby, I love you.
I love you so much.

Prisoner

Not everyone knows,
So few can see
The connection between my past
And this new me.

Not much has changed,
To you, I am the same.
But my reflection tells me otherwise.
I don't even recognize my own name.

I miss the lack of insecurity,
I miss the confidence in me.
I miss the days, so long ago,
Without anxiety.

I want to breathe,
To feel unconstrained.
I want to know
It is not these things by which I am defined.

But I cannot know that,
I cannot breathe.
For it is not so,
In your mind, it does define me.

I wish there was some magic cure,
I don't want to live this way.
I am a prisoner of my own mind
And know your love is the only way
I will survive.

I Bleed Ink

It runs from my shoulder
All down my arm
Reaching my fingertips
Dripping onto paper.

It comes in many colors
And it takes shapes I've never seen.
It forms words on my paper
Spelling out ingenious things.

Pouring down my arm,
Racing down my hand.
Drizzling from my fingertips,
Is this all I am?

I bleed ink on a daily basis.
I could do it my sleep.
Straight from my heart,
Then it runs down my sleeve.

It drips ever so slowly
As it races towards the paper.
Impatiently dreaming
Of becoming some beautiful work of art.

I bleed ink from every fingertip
It's taking over me.
I need to stop for a moment
I need some time to breathe.

Running from my heart,
Racing over all of me,
Reaching for the stars
As if from some long lost dream.

It's no dream any more,
This is reality.
Reality becomes a nightmare
As it takes over all of me.

I bleed ink,
As though that is all I am.

My Newest Obsession: Switched at Birth

Recently, I found myself stuck on a new TV series: Switched at Birth. Starring Vanessa Marano (as Bay) And Katie Leclerc (as Daphne), this show quickly became an obsession, despite my never having heard of them before.
This ABC Family series follows two teen girls, Bay Kennish and Daphne Vasquez, who were raised in two entirely different worlds. Bay grew up with her brother, mother and father in a rich area of Kansas called Mission Hills. She goes to a private school and is an amazing artist. Daphne grew up working class with a single mother. She went deaf at age three and goes to a deaf school. She is a wonderful chef and very smart.
Connecting the two girls is their birthday. Well, that, and the fact that they were switched at birth and sent home with the wrong families.
The show begins with the Kennish family discovering that Bay is not their biological daughter and then finding Daphne and her mother/Bay's biological mother. It then follows them through their day-to-day lives as they discover each other, as well themselves. It shows the struggles they face each and everyday.
I'm not the only one with this obsession. If you go online, you'll find that there are people just as, if not more, obsessed as I am. Although, I don't have to look too far outside my own bedroom to find other fans. My husband, after refusing to watch full episodes with me because he insisted he did not want to get stuck on a show, is hooked. While I was watching episode six, he began to take interest and was asking questions about everything. Rather than telling him about everything that happened in the first five episodes, we went back to episode number one. That night, we watched the fist ten episodes.
After hearing that her brother and I had a new show we liked, my sister in law began asking me about it. Upon hearing a brief explanation, she became interested, started watching, and is now stuck on Switched at Birth.
Now, for the big question, why is this show so addictive? I remember when I first began watching. I was fifteen. I was curious about Daphne and Emmett. I wanted to learn more about them. About what it is like to be deaf. I remember wanting to learn more sign language. I felt connected to Bay. She loved painting, just like I did. Her life was not at all what it looked like from the outside. Both Bay and Daphne were constant victims of stereotypes.
Now, at eighteen, I connect a little more to this show. I have a deeper understanding and I am able to connect to more of the characters.
When I first began watching this show three years ago, I felt the most connection with Bay and Daphne. I constantly found myself wondering what it would be like to be in their shoes, how I would react or of I could handle any of it at all. Now 18 and married, I ask myself those same questions, as well as some new ones. I now put myself not only in the shoes of Bay and Daphne, but also in those of John and Kathryn Kennish and Regina Vaasquez. I ask myself what it would be like to bring home a beautiful baby girl, raise her the best I can for 15 years, and then find out she's not biologically mine. I question how I would handle it. Would I do what Regina did when she initially found out about Bay, or would I immediately look for the other child and contact her family, like the Kennishes did?
Switched at Birth causes you not only to think about relationships and teen age drama, but also about the true meaning of family and how important it is to embrace and accept diversity. This show also sends the message that you shouldn't be too hard on anyone because you never know what silent battles they may be facing.
Over all, I believe this show is intriguing, well written, well casted and, most important, teaches valuable lessons to all those who are open to it.

When Tomorrow Comes

When yesterday comes
And you are happy,
Once again laughing
At jokes spoken too many times.
When you stop running,
And we are again playing,
Like we once did,
In the long since forgotten snow.
When yesterday comes
And there is now more crying,
No more silent tears
Staining your pillow.
When we remember who we are
And why we are here,
When we are there for each other
We will know.
When yesterday comes
We will know what it means
What it means when you say forever.
When yesterday comes
We will remember
We made a promise.
Best friends forever.
When yesterday comes
We will call each other,
Go out of our way to find time for each other,
It will be like it once was
Not so long ago.
So let’s find a time machine,
Rewind and fix our mistakes,
Bring back yesterday
And reach out to each other,
Before yesterday is too far gone
And we are far too late.

To My Niece and Nephews

When you were little,
I held you in my arms as you fell asleep.
I made your bottles and fed you.
I changed your diapers and clothed you.
I kept you warm and safe and healthy.
When you got older and wanted to explore,
I took you outside to see new animals
And roll the ball around.
I let you run, but kept you safe.
I picked you up when you fell,
And made your boo boo's feel all better.
When you cried,
I held you.
When you were tired and cranky,
I rocked you and sang to you.
I read you stories as you sat on my lap and pointed at pictures.
When you watched early morning cartoons with still-sleepy eyes,
I was your pillow.
When you played all day, got dirty and needed a bath,
I made sure all the dirt was washed away,
So you would be clean and ready to play when you woke up the next day.
When you were cold,
I wrapped you in blankets and held you close until you were warm again.
I brushed and braided your hair.
I picked out your clothes
And helped you tie your shoes.
I held your hand as you crossed the road
And I carried you through the store.
I've helped to keep you safe through all these years.
I've held you, kept you warm and fed you.
I've given you everything I can
And will continue to love you unconditionally.
As you grow up,
As you get older,
I hope you remember.
Remember the cartoons,
The laughs we've shared
And the tears I've wiped away.
I hope you remember the bedtime stories
And songs we've sang.
I hope you remember the hugs, the kisses
And I love you's.
I hope you remember all the little things and
As you remember, I hope you know it will never end.
I will always love you and be here for you.
You may not need me to hold your hand as you cross the road when you are older.
You may not need me to pick out your clothes,
Or blow your nose.
You may not need me to brush or braid your hair
Or carry you in the store.
But I will be here.
I will be here to talk,
I will be the shoulder you can cry on,
The listening ear,
The advice or guidance you need.
I promise you,
I will be here.
No matter what it is you need need.
And I will still love you.
Unconditionally.

Lessons from a Fifteen Year Olds Facebook

All of the following were taken off of my little sisters Facebook. It's amazing what you can learn from pictures shared by a 15 year old.

1. Find humor in the seemingly humorless.

     Yes, even triangles can shine a little light in your otherwise dreary school/work day. A good sense of humor can go a long way.

2. All relationships have problems.

    It's true. Even if you love someone, you will eventually fight over something. Whether its where to eat or what to do with the next 50 year's, there will be something. You will hurt each other like no one else can. You will argue. You will get jealous. However, you will trust that person more than anyone else and you will endure any and everything necessary to ensure that they are happy and safe. Because they are worth it. Your relationship is worth it. And, if they are the one, nothing will come between you.

3. Don't interrupt.

Although, you should take the headphones out and join the human race once in a while.

4. Everyone likes sleep.

Not everyone can get it when they want it.

Insomnia sucks.

 

5. Be careful what you post.

Once something is on the internet, you can never truly get rid of it. No one wants their future boss or college professor to see that picture of you at 14 with a bottle of alcohol in your hand. Even if it is just filled with water and posted to make yourself look good to your friends. Be careful. Or be embarrassed. Your choice.

6. Rocks can be shaped like elephant.

Point proven.

7. Your cat isn't just your best friend...

He/she can also be your personal butt-blanket.

8. There are hidden beaches.

And, chances are, you will never go there.

9. Girls can actually be very simple creatures.

At times.

10. Anime.

That is all.

11. All you need is love.

Which can be shown by watching Netflix and cuddling.

12. Sweet potatoes are better for you than regular potatoes.

And they taste good.

13. And last, but certainly not least: 

There is someone who will see all of your so-called imperfections and call them beautiful. 

 

Links to my Other Blogs/Social Media

    As you may know, I am currently maintaining seven blogs as well as a Twitter and Facebook page for these blogs. Here are the links to those accounts.

WordPress: http://benotafraid1496.wordpress.com/

Blogger: https://www.blogger.com/profile/06710346155210535425

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/52weekblogchallenge

Quora: http://www.quora.com/Juliana-Marie-3

Potash.io: http://52weekblogchallenge.postach.io/

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/100604549348709040606

Sett: http://sett.com/52weekblogchallenge

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005337945224&fref=ts

Twitter: https://twitter.com/benotafraid1496.   @benotafraid1496

Update on the Challenge- 1/1/15

    Sadly, I am writing to inform you that two of the nine websites have been dropped from my little project. I will not be posting on Medium.com because you can only post from Chrome, Firefox or Safari and my tablet cannot run any of those. Also, I will not be posting to Svbtle.com due to the fact that I am broke and do not have the $6/month that they charge. However, I will still be posting to all seven other sites. I have already created the accounts and shared my first post.

    Thank you for your understanding. More posts will be coming soon!

Why I Will Never Put on "Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse" Again

      
    “Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse”. Sounds sweet, child friendly, innocent… dreamy. That is what one would think, judging by the title. So, when I asked my two year old niece what she wanted to watch on Netflix and she pointed to this show and said “pretty”, I had no problem with pressing play. Maybe five minutes into the episode, I began to regret that decision. Not being one to judge a book by its cover, I continued to let it play. And then, as requested by my niece, I let the next episode play.
    I have only two words for you, NEVER. AGAIN. And I mean it. It has been over a month since I clicked that show the first time and I have not, and will not, do it again.
    Here is why: I do not want to teach my two year old niece that it is okay to be that materialistic. I do not want her to grow up thinking that you have to have a certain hair color, eye color, kitchen appliance, car or t-shirt to have friends. To have boys like you. To be pretty or to have purpose.   
    Beginning in the first episode, Barbie's "friends" are clearly envious. They show key characters getting make-overs to win the affection of a boy. They show yet another key character buying bigger and "better" gifts for Barbie to win her love. Her friends idolize her and constantly desire more artificial and materialistic items. If they don't have it, they want it, even if they won't use it.
    Do we really need to send this message to our nieces? Our sisters? Our daughters?
    I do understand the points that some people have made on IMDB. I can see how it could possibly be written to be a parody of the Barbie stereotype. However, a two year old little girl would not look at this show and see the irony or how unrealistic it really is. She sees a pretty girl with a boy who makes her happy by giving her things. She sees people trying to win each others friendship, love and affection with artificial and meaningless items. She sees the perfect example of how people SHOULDN'T be, but that they have everything they want, despite going about it in all the wrong ways.
    Rather than putting "Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse" on, next time I will choose Scooby Doo, to teach her and her brother that it doesn't matter whether your a boy or girl, tall or short, fat or skinny, scared or courageous, human or animal. If you work as a team, you can do anything.
    Or, maybe, I will choose Kim Possible. To show that you don't have to fit a stereotype, you can be the pretty cheerleader and be friends with the "nerd" and save the world.
    In fact, I will put either of these or Veggie Tales on willingly. I will gladly play any show that teaches good, valuable life lessons. In fact, no life lesson at all would be better than what Barbie is currently teaching our children.
In the words of Carol B. Hillman, "One of the most important things we adults can do for young children is to model the kind of person we would like them to be." And that includes what we allow our television choices to model for them.
http://imdb.com/title/tt2644032/reviews?ref_=m_tt_urv#showAll

My 52 Week Blogging Challenge

    Starting today, January 1, 2015, I will be writing at least one post every week for 52 weeks or, in other words, one year. Each of these post will be shared on nine different blogging sites (WordPress.com, Blogger.com, Tumblr.com, Medium.com, Svbtle.com, Quora.com, Postach.io, Plus.Google.com and Sett.com). At the end of the year, I will post a review of all none sites. This review will include information about things such as features that each site has available, the community and how easy or hard it is to gain an audience.
    My posts will vary in topic. One week I may write about what it's like to be an eighteen year old housewife or the most recent episode of Doctor Who, and the next about  my opinion of the most recent over-played song on the radio. Who knows? I may even post a poem or an excerpt of a story I have written.
    If you have any questions, comments or ideas as to what I should write about next, please feel free to comment. I love to hear the opinions of others and am open to writing about anything.
    Thank you for reading and have a wonderful New Year!