February 13, 2009
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Nice to meet you.
I don’t get out much, and can be a bit socially inept, so forgive me if this introduction feels awkward or forced.
This year I’ve met some people; women, mostly, who write blogs, brazenly putting it all out there for other people to read/criticize/comiserate with/hate on/fall in love with. They write about their pets, their jobs, their lovers, the books they read, the politics and people that affect their lives. They write with elation about personal victories. They write with white-hot rage about injustices. Sometimes when they write it makes me laugh out loud. Sometimes the writing challenges me. The writing is honest, and however mundane the topic might be, the writing is real.
I used to write, a lot. I haven’t in long time.
These days, although I’m largely content with my life and really have little (if anything) legitimately worth whinging about, I’m feeling a little bit scattered and sometimes transparent; not transparent in a “I’m hanging it all for you to see” kind of way, more like a thin, tissue-papery-feeling kind of way, like I could tear if I moved an arm suddenly at an unexpected angle. I think that a return to writing might be a good way for me to solidify a tad, to become a little more, well, real.
You and I will both have to wait a little while until this blog transforms itself into something worthwhile and readable. I’d like to think I have something useful and interesting to contribute to this community of sharers and readers. Thanks for making it this far.