Stay tuned
I’m tongue-tied this week. There’s something I’d like to tell you, but can’t just yet, pending notification of a certain party. It's not a big thing, really: I’m not pregnant, and I haven’t been signed by a publisher, but the situation’s made me think about this blog and the people who read it. I’m pretty clear about not writing anything that I wouldn’t want a particular person to find, but in the beginning this seemed about as remote as bumping into an ex-boyfriend on the summit of Mt. Everest. Now I know real people read this, some of whom I know in real life, and now and then I feel nervous. Not so much because of the salacious content (has there been any?) but that someone I know might think, golly, I really thought there was more going on in that paddock up there. Or, why am I hearing about this on her blog?
So I can’t tell you this one thing, but I’m dying to. Because I’m excited and nervous and unsure, and I know you’ll get a laugh out of it. Instead, I’m going to be like one of those tabloid news shows that keeps telling you over and over that the sizzling story about X is coming up right after the break, and you stupidly remain perched on the edge of your seat until the very last seconds of the show, at which point you realise it was all a beat-up anyway.
Instead, I could bore you with the story of how I came home the other day and couldn’t open the front door, because it was barricaded shut by the huge length of ornamental plaster cornice that had fallen off the ceiling.
Or I could tell you about my new mobile (cell) phone, that doesn’t really do anything except operate as a phone, something my old phone couldn’t quite manage.
Or I could just admit to you that I have a hard time with honesty. Not telling the truth per se (I hate lying), but the kind of honesty where I can be open about my needs and wants, even when I might disappoint someone in doing so. I’ll twist and squirm and spend wide-eyed hours in the middle of the night worrying about how to broach a situation, whether it’s worth risking someone else’s disappointment. My anxieties pick up speed exponentially, so that the smallest risk takes on catastrophic proportions.
I should make the phone call now.
But I can’t until Monday.
So I can’t tell you this one thing, but I’m dying to. Because I’m excited and nervous and unsure, and I know you’ll get a laugh out of it. Instead, I’m going to be like one of those tabloid news shows that keeps telling you over and over that the sizzling story about X is coming up right after the break, and you stupidly remain perched on the edge of your seat until the very last seconds of the show, at which point you realise it was all a beat-up anyway.
Instead, I could bore you with the story of how I came home the other day and couldn’t open the front door, because it was barricaded shut by the huge length of ornamental plaster cornice that had fallen off the ceiling.
Or I could tell you about my new mobile (cell) phone, that doesn’t really do anything except operate as a phone, something my old phone couldn’t quite manage.
Or I could just admit to you that I have a hard time with honesty. Not telling the truth per se (I hate lying), but the kind of honesty where I can be open about my needs and wants, even when I might disappoint someone in doing so. I’ll twist and squirm and spend wide-eyed hours in the middle of the night worrying about how to broach a situation, whether it’s worth risking someone else’s disappointment. My anxieties pick up speed exponentially, so that the smallest risk takes on catastrophic proportions.
I should make the phone call now.
But I can’t until Monday.
posted by girlprinter at 9:22 AM
6 Comments:
it's an oddly uncomfortable thing when you discover people who actually know you in real life read your blog, a moment when worlds collide...
This, I should think, is one of the minor problems associated with blogging. Maybe you could write a blog entry but keep it private? I works for some people anyway.
ooh I love it when other people have news!
Ok, I've been thinking about blogging about things you don't want other people, whom you know in real life. Primarily because that's a problem to me as well.
And I think I came up with a pretty nice way solution. What about you write a short sentence like, Note that this post may be complete fiction - although it may as well contain some pieces of truth, or not.
What do you think? In this way, the reader does not know whether what you're writing about is a true thing that happened or whether it's straight from your mind! The only snag: you do have to write from time to time.
My husband and I both blog, and read each other's blogs. He doesn't write personal stuff, because he's a bloke, but occasionally I'll warn him that something's brewing that he might not like. I suppose if we ever had a major row, blogging could be the equivalent of 'Would you ask your mother to pass the salt, please?' 'Would you tell your father that the doctor said it's not good for him, so go right ahead.' Eeeeeewh! Scary!
Part of me would like a secret blog where anything goes, but the rest of me is not sure that I want to go there. I agree with Julia about that last para - but does anyone else find that blogging makes them a bit braver, a bit more direct? You know - we thought out loud, and nobody was shocked or appalled, but everyone was quite interested really..... yeah..... :D
I feel that way, too, about being honest. Which feels odd to even admit out loud, but there it is. I also worry about who reads my blog, in part because I know someone who has a history of copying my designs and selling them reads it, but mostly because I am just too private (and maybe a little competitive?) to put my problems (and even many of my successes) in the open.
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