Blog Posts and the Day I Ran Away By Rebecca Greenberg

So as I'm sitting here looking at my blank screen watching the bold line blink, trying to think about what to write my blog on, an idea came to me. What if I were to write my blog post, about blog posts. I'm sure that many of fellow bloggers on its Literature often get writer's block as do I, so I thought that it would be both fun and helpful to blog about blogging.  

While the term “blog” wasn’t coined until the late 1990’s, people have been writing online about personal experiences, news or just helpful hints for decades.

Blogs are a way that we can unite our classroom and the public virtually and mentally. Many of my fellow bloggers, blog about topics that interest them or they believe deserve special recognition. This not only enables intriguing topics to be made known, but allow for each individual student to express their opinion publicly, which is a pretty cool thing.

Below I listed 20 different ideas to blogs about for the next time anyone has a writer’s block and doesn't know what the blog about.

1. That thing that happened in high school that pretty much changed your life forever

2. The worst movie you ever did see, and why

3. Your favorite recipe, even if you’re the worst cook in the world.

4. The day you left home

5. That one time you told a huge lie and kinda got away with it. Or perhaps you didn’t and that would make an even better blog post!

6. The hardest thing you’ve ever been through

7. 9 things you just can’t handle

8. Your day in photos {take a photo every hour from wake to sleep}

9. Your most excruciatingly embarrassing moment. We’ve all got one.

10. A letter to your 16 year old self. What advice would you give?

11. Your celebrity dinner party. Who would you invite?

12. A how-to post on something you know nothing about

13. Your first crush.

14. The day you started blogging. What were you thinking?

15. The most difficult decision you’ve ever made. Write from the heart.

16. 7 things you learned from being a kid

17. A letter to your future self

18. An anti-bucket list: the things you hope to never do before you die

19. The last thing that made you cry

20. Your earliest childhood memory

I picked number 4 to blog about.

The day I left home was a cool autumn day, dried brown leaves rustling in the wind. I slid on my crusty “work” boots (since mom always made me keep an extra pair), and zipped up my pink north face jacket which had a huge white paint splotch on the back. As I walked downstairs I passed my brothers room and nodded, sealing our fate. I clunked downstairs and opened the hall closet. Standing on my tippy toes I reached for the yellow and black bag that rolled on wheels. As my brother came down the stairs and saw me mustering all my strength trying to  magically growing a few more inches to the reach the bag, he comes up along me and grabbed it placing it right on the floor in front of me. I rolled my eyes, boys. Grabbing the chest set, I shoved it along with two red Italian ices into the bag. While we were walking through the kitchen luckily I remembered the spoons. I looked at my brother, and nodded as he slid the sliding door opened which signaled that are journey was now starting. My backyard is a huge hill, that flattens out at the bottom. Two old rusty swing sets inhabit that land. We walk past our usual playing spot and continued into the acres of woods that lay behind our house. We walk deeper and deeper into the area swarmed with trees which blocks out the sun making some spots eerie looking. My brother would constantly shout out advice like, “Don't step there unless you want your feet to smell like skunk” or something like, “Watch out that skunks cabbage!” As a curious young girl my brother was like this professional navigator that knew the ins and outs of the woods like this was where he retreated to every night. We walked for maybe half of the day and passed some bear caves and other cool features that the woods housed. We then came to a clearing and my brother stopped signaling that this was it. Our place. I looked around making sure I soaked up every detail of this place, so we could return again sometime soon. I looked up and saw what must of been the remnants of a tree house perched up on a tall and narrow tree. There was 2 by 4’s nailed along the trunk, that I used as steps. I being the queen of this place was ushered up the tree. After a few steps my sense of balance went whack and I started to get queasy. However I knew the queen of this place must show no signs of weakness so climbed on until I was at the top of the perch. There was this small platform enough for one person to stand on. Once I was steady I looked up and saw that I could see over the neighboring trees and view my new claimed territory. It was breathtaking. At this point in the story you're wondering how old I must be or that my mother must be worried sick about us. I can assure you, she thinks we are playing down by the swings and I'm merely 8, a great age for a queen might I add. My brother and I stayed in the woods for the majority of the day doing what kids do best; letting our imagination run wild. We of course returned home in time for dinner. I kissed my mom’s cheek, and agreed in how wonderful our day was playing down at the swing set. My brother and I returned to that spot in the woods as often as we could, and to this day that will always be our little place.