I jumped into this enterprise without fully understanding the ramifications. For heaven’s sake, I don’t even know whether to capitalize the word or not! After the first meager comments appeared at the end of my entries, I felt an affinity with Julie, of the film, Julie and Julia—“Oh, my God, I have readers!” This realization was both a thrill and a responsibility. Readers amplify typos and brain farts. Readers are what bloggers want…or are they what bloggers fear? I do not push my blog. I do not advertise or self-aggrandize—much. Even the act of including a link to my blog in Facebook or at the bottom of e-mails feels ridiculous, pushy, arrogant. In launching this blog, I hoped to push myself to write more regularly. I felt a need to push beyond my comfort level. Other people call me a writer. I cough and sputter over this characterization. The blog should help me to grow into the title or leave it forever.
My web encyclopedia explains that a blog is derived from the terms “web log. Fine. Wikipedia further explains that a blog may “provide commentary or news on a particular subject; others function as more persona l online diaries.” My blog falls into the latter category. My blog is a random compilation of whatever triggers introspection. As such, my blog is personal. I don’t expect my topics to be Googled, and I rather assume that my readers will know me, at least peripherally. In short, I naïvely expect a friendly audience.