The Birth of a Blog

I've been thinking about starting a blog ever since I arranged to take four months off work and head to South America. I was wavering because I wasn't sure how much I wanted to share in such a public forum. I kept thinking, "Who do I think I am?" The narcissism of assuming that folks would want to read what I was writing seemed to be a bit of a leap for me. Plus, as a regular journal writer since the second grade, I wasn't sure what role a blog would play in my life.

But the modern ethos of oversharing overwhelmed me, so here I am. And as for the name, you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to find one that isn't taken already! Basically, any phrase that I could think of from a poem, song, or book title was already being used.

There is no good explanation for my title, other than wanting a simple name that my parents could remember and my ongoing obsession with brussel sprouts. I thought it a sign when one recent night while cooking dinner, long after dumping all the other sprouts in the pan, I found one solitary brussel sprout that had escaped my knife. It was too late to throw it in with the rest. After contemplating it a bit, I sat it in the top shelf of my fridge, where it still sits today, awaiting it's alternate brussel sprout future...