Why did all my Profs hate me?

This time I mean business! Third time's a charm. Today is the third day in a row that I have come back to this place and have attempted my hand at this writing a blog thing. In college one of my philosophy professors told me that my writing was "poor to average." My gut tells me he was absolutely correct in his assessment, but it still made me feel sad that he said that about my writing. At least he hadn't said it was 'shite.' I had heard him tell other students that. He was an Irishman so that's how he pronounced shit. He would also say feck instead of fuck. He had a great accent and it really softened the blow when he would publicly insult you in front of the other students. Anyways, that is just a tidbit about me.

Now you know that I went to college and that I took a Philosophy class. Actually, my major was Philosophy, which I like to think makes me seem intellectual or wise or something. Sadly, the truth is I know nothing to little about philosophy. If you ask me a famous philosophical question or about a major person in philosophy my first response is"wha?" Sometimes, philosophical terms seem a bit familiar like axiom, categorical, epistemology, subjective and empirical. I know I used to know what these words meant but now I am not too confident I know exactly what they mean.  It's like I was better at retaining philosophy stuff before I made it my major. So, although I would like to think I am very philosophically inclined, the evidence points to the contrary. Sigh. I would like to be philosophical someday.

Moving on, I haven't told anyone about this blog because:

1. I have just started it.
2. I am not sure how this will pan out. I've tried before and I just never followed through. There was nothing I wanted or was willing to write about.
3. I am super EMBARRASSED!

So, I think the above counts as a story. Thanks for listening!

Hello, World!

Testing, 1, 2, 3. Hello? Yes? Is anyone here?

I will tell stories on here, hopefully on a daily basis. Today's story comes from a coworker. It is a true story. Here goes. 

"So, do you know Anthony?" Richard said as he tapped the screen on his phone. It appeared that he had just gotten off of the phone with someone and now he wanted to share what he had just heard. As he walked towards the reception area where I work, I noticed his rather pleased look on his face. 

"Yes." I replied. I knew most of the hourly staff since they would come in and ask for random things like sending faxes and making copies.

"Well, this morning he found a car in the parking lot, the door was open, the sunroof was open and the car was running. He saw it had been standing like that for a while so he went towards it. Dead guy inside. Probably getting ready to go home. Must've died having a heart attack or something."

Will there be a parking garage ghost? 

Creepy.