Creating a blog

So this is what everybody's been doing for the last ten years, huh? Typing some shit into a box and then making it public. I picked the dumbest title ever for my blog, but I'm not good at naming things under pressure. Anyway, I'm sitting here in my chilly wooden room in Merjevi Village, Georgia, counting down the hours til I'm on a plane again, on my way back to my real life. I have to pee, too, but it's like I always have to pee when I'm wrapped in blankets and they've finally warmed from my body heat. I didn't get to sleep last night until about 6 am because I: one, couldn't stop thinking, and two, couldn't stop peeing. I think it's that self-destructive force I keep as a pet that has been influencing my bladder. I didn't keep going to the bathroom all night when it was warm outside, but now that it's nice and cold, I'm up 5 times a night. To the squatter, no less, on the way to which I meet no fewer than three mice and a pregnant rat, and recently I've been imagining I hear low growling out in the darkness of the yard. Or maybe I'm not imagining it. Last night my flashlight lit up a white towel hanging on the line and I almost screamed. I totally thought it was a ghost, like my face and neck got all hot and stuff. I'm Skyping with Samantha E right now, she's a teacher in the next city over. We're talking about writing, and I sent her Tristan's "Backpack" because I love him and my "Death is Not an Option" because I love me. I don't have Brad's "Death is Not an Option" unfortunately. Oh and for anyone who wants to know, we both have stories with the same title because Mama likes to give us topics/titles of stories and have us write what comes to us. It's fun. She writes it on the dry erase board in the kitchen, and we go for it. I love my mom...Anyway, starting to ramble. I'll come back for more of my public diary later.