Eating dinner at Waffle House (a story for a different day)
Daughter: I feel like I tell bad stories.
Me: You got it from me. I’m sorry.
Husband: If it’s any consolation, you do it better than mom does — but that’s not saying much.
So what I’m hearing is that I win. I never win anything. Once I won a pack of M&Ms — but not really. I was taking one of those first time home buyers classes. The chick next to me got an answer right and the guy doing the class threw her a bag of M&Ms. He was a bad aim and hit me right in the face. So I won.
It's been a year (and a few days) since I started my blog -- you know, that thing I didn't want to do but my husband said it would be great (insert eye roll). I've spent my last year doing things I can't even remember now (anyone else wondering what happened to their year?); adding lots of great ideas to my to-do list (I guess blogging didn't make the cut); doing more markets during my off season than I intended (not complaining); and, of course, making all the things.
Well, happy anniversary to my non blog and all those bad stories I haven't told yet.
Hi, I'm Tab, and I'm bad at telling stories. I use names like you're supposed to know who they are because, honestly, it's shorter than saying, "My cousin's sister" or "my other friend's friend." You get the picture. I think it's perfectly fine to just start out with names. Books do, don't they? F & S (close friends) and Pedro (husband alias) -- see! just explaining that was too long -- say I need to give more context.
So the reason I'm writing if I'm so bad at telling stories?? Pedro made me do it. Sort of. He seems to think it will help my website. Maybe he's right. To be honest, I'm not a fan of writing and blogging but I want to make Stenotab my job full time, so here I am and here it is in all it's glory. Stay tuned for more bad stories.