i am a writer.

ROF said something this week that upset me.  or it made me mad at first but then i thought about it some more.

i was telling a story about something that happened to me that i thought was right out of a scene from a movie, or a book.  and i said to ROF, “you know, the writer in me thought that would be a great story to tell.”  that’s when he said:

“since when are you a writer?”

i won’t bore you with the witty repartee but it is one of those things that i always thought i was.  in fact, i bet my mom and sister are reading this saying “she is a writer?” but it is one of those things that i’ve always aspired to be but don’t write much any more.  unless you count 287 blog posts writing.

which i do, by the way.  ROF. even if there are pictures.

i graduated college with a fiction writing minor.  i took a post-grad class called “your first 100 pages” of your novel.  i wrote a book of poems.  I’M A WRITER.

or am i just one of those old(er) people that hangs on to who they used to be – or worse – hangs on to whom they wanted to be? busted.  but stuff like this can always be turned around, right?  

ernest hemingway, i’m not.  but i kind of liked thinking of myself as a writer.  so i’m going to start to write.  you’ll notice a new tab at the top of my blog. peek in there sometime if you want to read some musings.  i want to be a writer.