I am not who I was

We can walz upon a thousand memoires and never grow weak. We can dance for a million miles.

Those were the words I wrote one monday so long ago when I was wrting about something I had done. Started a little life blog to tell my sister Emily what I am up to while she had just been married off. It was April and I had just turned the age of 17. It was beautiful and perfect and I loved my little blog. I dreamed of the day when I would get my first follower that was not a friend or family. She did come nearly 4 months and a hundred posts later. I guess that's blogging. Anyhow I have 25 of you now. You guys mean the entire world to me, honestly. I love your pretty little faces and your lovely comments. Oh yeah and soon enough my dear little ones shall be gone due to the fact Google is getting rid of them. It was hard work getting you guys and I am slightly disapointed about all this. Urg.

But Please look up my blog on Blog Lovin if you still want my posts. I am also looking for some girls who would like to fill out interviews for this blog. Tell me if your interested at emailmayamoore@gmail.com. I am also soon going to set up a "Follow by Email" box on my blog if you guys want to follow without blog Lovin.

When I started this blog I was sure about one thing. That I was a amazing, typical girl on the shores of Hilton Head Island. I loved the sand in my hair and the sun burn. But now I am a city girl, shut up in a apartment, wishing for my old home and writing letters and face-booking those old friends of mine all over the world.

I have not changed in my heart. And I will still blog as many times they take my followers away. I know not many people read these words! I wish they did, honestly. But I know a few of you stcik with me and I love you girls. Comments make my world go round and yes I love them. But not many are still okay because I don't blog for others I blog for me. That's the truw and honest thing.

I am not who I was when this blog started and neither is it. But I am glad that I am someone now.

Someone better.

Forever, your wind streaked island girly,

Maya