The last we left off I was remembering why I began this blog in the first place. A lot has happened since I started this little piece of work of mine, so maybe I should let you in on what this crazy cat lady has been up to.

I left my glamorous city life behind and moved back to my home town. I suppose what they say really is true-- much like this blog, home is always where the heart is. While I loved living in Toronto (and man did I love it), I always felt like something was missing. I thought it was because I just hadn't gotten used to a new city-- and maybe that was the case-- but I found myself going back home an awful lot, and the more I went back, the more I missed it. Nothing beat being back home with my friends and family. When I started this blog, I thought that I was a big fish in a little pond, but as it turned out, I was just the right size for my pond, I just needed to figure it out first. Funny how that works, eh?

So here I am, back in my hometown. I am working in a job that I genuinely love, (and it's not retail, YAY!) and I'm finally starting to feel like I have some things figured out. I'll be turning 26 in a few weeks, and for the first time since I've been in my 20's, I feel totally happy with where I'm at!

So there you have it, just a small update from me. So much more has happened since I've moved back home (which will be a year ago in week, YIKES!) but I'll leave those stories for another time!

Here's to you, and to me, and to whatever happens tomorrow.

I remember when I used to love writing. When I looked forward to sitting down at my computer, or my journal and just writing out my feelings. When journaling felt less like a task, and more like free therapy. I've missed those days.

Oddly enough, (pun intended) I became passionate about writing-- journaling in particular when I was 13. I had read a very thought-provoking story told by a young Jewish girl through her diary entries. "Dear Kitty," she would write, telling her experiences of life in hiding during the most intense and traumatizing period a young girl could live through.

I carried that passion all through high school when I excelled in English classes, and continued to love writing when I first went to university and majored in English. Even when I changed majors, I knew my love for writing was still present when I started this blog, almost two years ago. Writing anecdotes about my life and opinions was fun for a while, but I'd noticed I had become obsessed with building my blog more than I was about sharing my craft. You know why I loved Anne Frank's diary so much? Because it was genuine. She wasn't writing for an audience, she was writing for herself. I had become so involved in the blog, that I'd forgotten the real reason why I had started it to begin with-- to write. Not for views, for me. And maybe for a few other people who might find inspiration in my life the way I had in so many other's blogs. So I quit.

I quit the blog-- cold turkey. I put away my metaphorical pen and paper and didn't look back. Until now. My theory is, when you're passionate about something, you don't ever lose that. Sometimes you can't find it for a while, but that doesn't mean it's gone.

Have you ever misplaced something? Ever go looking for that item in a frenzy trying to figure out where you could have placed it? Only to feel total relief when you've found it again? That's how I feel about writing-- I've misplaced it for a while, but now it's back. Now I'm back.

How about them apples?