Today is the one year anniversary of the start of my blog. Crazy, isn’t it? You know, I’m not the type that normally thinks in increments of time. When couples celebrate their five-month anniversary, I secretly ask myself, “why?” After the September 11th attacks, I was irritated that news reporters felt the need to commemorate the event on the 11th of each subsequent month. Every New Year’s Eve, I’m always questioning exactly why the turn of a new year is such a big deal. And even when my own birthday rolls around every May, I’ve been known to rain on my own feeble parade. And yet here I am, marking the birth date of my blog.

I guess in this case, the date means something to me because so much good has come from this little website. I originally started this blog because I wanted to force myself to write on a regular basis. I think it all worked out very well. As I read over my past entries, I don’t just see a collection of self-imposed writing assignments—I see a chronicle of my past, the minutia of my daily life that I would have surely forgotten, had I not written them down. So what’s so special about a record of KZ’s past? Well, maybe it won’t mean much to outsiders looking in (my friends included). But at best, anyone’s personal journal has the power to reveal or identify the simple truths of life. There’s truth all around us, waiting to be discovered, contemplated, and discussed. If I may conceit, I’d like to think that my blog has played at least a miniscule role in the grand search for truth.

But you know, maybe that’s expecting too much from a silly college student with little life experience. In time though, that much may change. Maybe if you stick around long enough, you’ll witness some kind coming of age through the gradual evolution of my writing. So many hopes, so many uncertainties. It’s just begun. I hope so, at least.