Of Thanksgiving Leftovers, Elephants and Jane Austen

So, it has finally come down to it. The first post. Perhaps it is the jet lag that is to blame or the unsettling feeling in my stomach due to that extra helping of leftover turkey; in any case, here I am at 3 am trying to crank out a respectable (i.e., coherent) post instead of just passing out. As a virgin blogger, I have to wonder: how do I circumvent the awkwardness of the first time all the while coming across as witty and sincere? Be myself? Hells no. Ignore the situation and pretend like I write beautiful prose and am not fraught with insecurities? I think we have a winner. 

In the spirit of ignoring elephants in the room, I think it is best to fall back on Jane Austen-type niceties in awkward situations. Jane Austen characters always have such a knack for ignoring uncomfortable truths through discussions of weather and marriage and if that doesn't get people off your back then getting them sloshed on port and banging out show tunes on the piano forte usually smoothes things right over.

Now, I think a round of introductions is in order. Firstly, I am Bean. Secondly, I live in an incredibly dull town where bikes are not locked, or better yet, they are locked only to themselves, a practice that I find impossibly retarded. That shit would not fly back at home. Hopefully I'll make it out of here without having to be lobotomized. I'll let you know. 

And here we go. This will be fun. I promise.