It's not my fault

Back when I first heard of web-logging/blogging, I thought, "Oh great; yet another way for frustrated writers to masturbate their egos on the internet, splashing their crap on the WWW canvas like wannabe Warhols." Okay, so it was a mixed metaphor, but you get my point. I stayed away from blogging like it was the plague. There was no way I would ever write about my personal feelings and life events, for anyone to read.

Then I "met" some great people online, on the Site That Shall Not Be Named, and noticed that several of them had blogs. Huh. Well, they seemed really cool and supportive, so I gave in and checked out their blogs. I was totally shocked and awed. And I was hooked. Next thing I knew, I was reading some of the blogs that they linked to. And then blogs from those blogs, and so on.

I found an incredible sense of community with all these couples and singletons. I wasn't alone; I wasn't the only one playing the Infertility Game [by Milton Bradley]. And while I don't wish my own misfortunes upon others, just knowing that there are other people who intimately know exactly what I'm going through.... it helps. A lot.

Next thing you know, I'm starting a blog of my own. For someone like me, it was one of the scariest things I've ever done in my life. I was getting naked in front of a bunch of strangers, showing them my scars and my flab, exposing the bits that are usually covered and safe from prying eyes. But I realized that it's a good kind of naked, really. The oddly-pasty bits of me that never get to see the sun, are getting a tan for the first time. And I'm realizing that ugly bits maybe aren't as ugly as I thought they were.

It's all so wonderfully cathartic. I never had the discipline to keep a journal, but for some reason I don't have a problem doing this. Go figure. But the funny thing is, when I first started, I was paranoid that I would be anonymous and unknown, that no one would ever read my blog. Then after the first week, I realized that it didn't matter. I'm not writing for anyone but myself; this is my own medicine. Don't get me wrong-- I'm happy when my friends read it, because then I don't have to verbalize everything that's in my head. There are often things that I can write about, but that I could never say out loud. But this is my blog, my journal, and my purge. And it's not my fault that my mental vomit is being sprayed out into the universe.

It's Cali, Tammy, and Sarah's fault, for being so great and getting me hooked. And I thank my lucky stars for them, because if I'd never read their blogs and consequently started my own, I'd probably be bonkers by now. Arigato gozaimasu.

And I have no idea why I went Japanese for a moment.