I wish I was interesting

I think I experience enough in this small existence to actually be somewhat interesting with this blog. For instance, I just took a day to go down to Pasco and attend a funeral that was actually somewhat happy. My family is weird (like every family) and my trip down there probably would have enough content for multiple blogs. Even my return back to the chaos of the theatre would make for a good story.

But alas, I am not interesting.

I don't know how to put my world into online journal postings. When I write in my pretty little red journal, I end up rambling about whatever is on my mind or bothering me at the time - it probably wouldn't make any sense to anyone but me (especially since I get upset about the most inane things). I also have a little dream world within my journal that I like to describe. It's a form of escape for me, but I would never share with anyone what I think about or dream about in there - mainly because it is hard for me to admit to myself what I really want in life. I would never be able to expose that to anyone else, it would be too much of a risk - especially since it will never happen (and I want to be the only one that knows of my failed dreams).