if you're reading this, you're lucky

 Dear Reader,

  If you're reading this, consider yourself lucky. Or cursed. Either one, really, or somewhere in between, I'm not picky. I'm not writing this for you anyway. I'm writing this for me; really, the thought that someone might stumble across this somewhere is just an added bonus, a part of the thrill, akin to leaving your diary out where anyone might pick it up and start reading. Of course I won't be writing anything all that private, nothing I wouldn't already say if I didn't have the misfortune of being unapologetically earnest in world of sarcasm and satire. Not that there's anything wrong with either of those things, but to express oneself in a manner sometimes opposite both doesn't often lead anywhere pleasant. And so I begin to write here.

  But now that I've begun to write, what to say? Perhaps I should begin by introducing myself. My name, for all intents and purposes, is Clara. I am somewhere north of twenty but still south of thirty, young enough to be foolish and old enough to recognize it. I live somewhere in the contiguous United States and enjoy all the benefits of living near friends and family and all the discomfort of living in the United States. I enjoy trashy romance novels and witty writing (perhaps you can tell by reading this I read too much Jane Austen and L. M. Montgomery growing up, though I don't think one can read too much of either). My favorite Shakespeare play is Much Ado About Nothing and my least favorite is Romeo and Juliet (maybe sometime I'll do a whole post on that). I like cooking on days when I feel inspired and on days when I don't I do it anyway; I've always been a whiz at baking but now I cannot have gluten, which severely limits my options, although I've been thinking about getting into macarons. And lastly- for now at least- I've always been a romantic at heart; movies, poetry, novels, imaginations, and any manner of other mediums have always captured my thoughts and inspired me and done all sorts of things that I've never quite found the words to describe.

  That's part of why I'm writing this, really, to give myself an outlet for all the things that have always been inside me but have never found a way out. That's also why I'm writing a blog and not in a diary or a journal like I used to; it needs to come out, it needs to be able to find someone, but it also needs some anonymity. At least for now. I haven't always had the courage to share how I think or view the world with other people. There's safety in hiding who you are, at least somewhat. So hopefully in this endeavor I can understand myself a little better and gain the courage to share parts of myself with those around me; and maybe you, Reader, may get something out of it, too. A better understanding of yourself, a better understanding of those around you, or maybe a good chuckle. Or maybe even nothing at all. Maybe no one will ever read this. But maybe that isn't the point. 

  And so today I leave you, Reader, perhaps we shall cross paths again soon. I hope your day is full, full of good things, and that you appreciate them for what they are and not for what you want them to be.

For now,

Clara