Since, I would say, the 2004 playoffs, I’ve had many more readers come to me every day than before that time. It’s a noticeable difference in managability, all that. But it’s also amazing, and I love it that you all visit me every day.
I’ve been having thoughts recently, though, about blogging and myself as a blogger – and it is only in the past couple of months, because of this shift up in readers.
Here is what has happened: I have become self-conscious. I think before I post. Especially if it’s something vulnerable, or sexy, or insecure. I wonder what people will think, I wonder if they will roll their eyes, like: “Oh Jesus, here goes Miss Drama Queen again”. And maybe some of you do. But really – my blog is not about pleasing the crowd, or being something other than who I am. (I’m working this out on my own, to myself, right now, not speaking to anyone in particular. This is something I have been struggling with on my own, internally, since I’ve gotten more readers.) I’m here, first and foremost, to write about what I want to write about when I want to write about it.
I started blogging because I love to write, I need to write, and I thought it would be more healthy and fun to write out in the world, rather than in my private journal. Basically, it’s how I keep sane. I would be writing every day anyway, but I thought, with this new blogging technology, that it was made for me.
I stumbled my way through, and in the beginning only my family read me, my friends … My blog was very different in the beginning. I ranted about Sept. 11. It was much more political. I needed to vent, I needed an outlet. Etc. But then the fever-phase of that passed, as time went on … and I started to add more personal essays.
Not surprisingly, this is when I started getting even more readers. I’m not a fool. I know I can tell a good story. And so people started linking to me, linking to the funny stories I posted. It was great.
There was a tone to all of my story-posts in the beginning – and it happened a bit unconsciously, but I’m sure there was something conscious to it, too. I love to write down funny stories, I have a funny outlook on things at times, I notice things … small human moments, etc.
But then there’s the other side. I would call it the dark side. Well, maybe that’s too broad a brush. There is a dark side, but you’ll never see it here on this blog. I’m too shy to share it all that often, especially now, because I’ve got all these new readers. People I don’t know. This is why I prefaced my Angel Cards post a day or so ago with “Raw emotions here … be warned”.
And my preference is: I do not want to “warn” people that I’m about to be open and raw anymore.
It felt wrong when I wrote those words at the beginning of the Angel Cards post, it felt like a betrayal of myself or something and it still feels wrong. I’m not going to apologize beforehand for any “raw emotions” anymore. What I felt that I did in that moment was do what I have been doing all my life: apologize for being intense.
“I know I’m intense, I’m sorry … Sorry … I’m intense.”
This has crippled me, emotionally. I know this. I have worked so hard to stop doing it with people in my life, with the guys I’m interested in – and here I am doing it on my own blog??
This is my issue. Nobody said to me: “You know, when you’re blogging, you should apologize beforehand for any intense posts.” This is me. It is also because of the general humorous teasing tone of most of my OTHER posts, and so I want to help my readers wtih the segue. Well, I am no longer going to “help with the segue”. Either you segue or you don’t, I can’t apologize anymore. If I sound passionate about this, or upset, it’s because it’s something I battle. Every day. I walk through life feeling like I am way too intense for public every-day consumption and I had better put a lid on it, or I will make people uncomfortable.
I know it’s ridiculous that I’m saying that about my own blog, my own domain name, my own kingdom – but it’s true and I’ve got to get it off my chest.
I am going to write what I want to write, and as the audience gets larger, I’m going to have more and more issues with this. I have this impulse to reveal, and a conflicting impulse to conceal. I get shy. I get afraid of people’s comments.
I posted the Angel Cards thing and was terrified at what people would say. I was scared that … I would be teased, maybe? Or that someone wouldn’t “get it”, or whatever. The comments that came from you people who did comment were absolutely lovely, and I felt so silly for being so trepidatious. But there ya have it. I’m not perfect, and I’m insecure about certain things.
Many of you reading me now are new to me. Perhaps you don’t know this other side of me, and perhaps you are not interested. That’s fine. Perhaps you come to me for one reason, perhaps you come to me for another. (I’ve written about this before). My blog is so eclectic and moody, I couldn’t keep a one-topic blog if I tried. I know my Cary Grant fan-readers. They always comment when I post about him. I know my political junkie readers, or the readers who love science … I have all these different interests, and when I happen to post on these interests, suddenly there are the readers who love that stuff. I like to write long-ass essays about Bogart, about movies I’ve seen. I’m not a sound-bite kind of girl. I’m not Steven Den Beste, but I’m just not a sound-bite kind of girl. I like to write about what I’m reading about, and I like to open up the forum to hear everyone else’s reading lists.
But what really interests me? What really floats MY boat? And after all, this is MY joint, nobody else’s, and if I don’t please MYSELF here, then what the fuck is the point? What really interests me is sharing stories from my life, telling stories, some funny, some sad, some angry, some stressed-out … I like to share what I long for, even though I know it probably makes my parents a bit sad for me, or worried about me. I like to share stories about Cashel, because it pleases me to do so. I have a TON of stories, as we all do. This is what makes life beautiful, and painful, and … what separates us from the beasts. We share our stories.
This is why I blog.
I must struggle, within myself, to not be shy anymore here, and not worry about how people will handle my “raw emotions”. I trust that if you don’t know what to say, then you won’t comment. Or you can put your thoughts into an email, as many many of you did after such posts as Angel Cards, and the Triumvirate of Men post (maybe the saddest post I ever wrote. I was terrified to put that one up as well!)
But there will be no more pre-apologies for my intensity, or my rawness. I can no longer do that to myself. It’s not right. It’s a way of hurting myself, of selling myself down the river. No. No more. If someone makes a comment that rubs me the wrong way to one of those “raw” posts, then I’ll just feckin’ delete it. Very simple.
Blogging is a way for me to keep connected to the world, to myself … it’s a way to be a part of this raucous chaotic community, a community that I absolutely love … and it’s a way for me to work through some of my shit. I do that through writing, and I choose to do it here.
You people who visit me every day are a huge part of my life, gotta tell ya. I love you for coming here, to read whatever it is I put up. Add your two cents, whatever. It never ceases to amaze me. This Internet thing. Really.
But this post is a way to announce – to you, and to myself – that I am giving up my own shyness and self-consciousness – in what I post, and how I post – because it’s defeating the whole point of this venture, it’s me putting a lid on myself again. Protecting you from my dark side, my intensity … “Ooh, they won’t want to read that … they come here for other reasons … they don’t want to read that shit!”
I am not saying that any of this is rational. To some degree, it isn’t.
But rational or not, it’s the conversation I’ve been having in my head when I start to go about putting up more vulnerable posts. And I finally really noticed it with the Angel Cards post, and how much I hesitated putting that up. It is not rational, but it is real, and I thought that making it public might help combat those silly ghosts.
Well, keep doing whatever you do. You’re one of my few daily stops, whatever it is you’re writing about.
Thanks, Mitch. :)
I enjoy reading you and I enjoy drinking margaritas with you, and it is precisely because of that intensity, so I say bare it all, baby. I certainly won’t love you any less for it.
For the record, I visit BECAUSE you can be a drama queen.
I like it when I feel a thing and someone else puts it into words for me, and better than I could. Keep doing that from time to time.
For the love of all things holy, you MUST express yourself. That’s what it’s all about. I wrote about politics for a while (right. since nobody else was), then popular culture for a while (warmer, but still just mailing it in). It wasn’t until I started writing my life that people started to care. Of course, by “life” I mean “trying to pastor a church while simultaneously not dying of cancer” and by “people” I mean “5 or 6 regulars.” But still, there it is.
It is a testament to who you are that (1) you are willing to open veins and spill them out on our computer screen and (2) other people want to read it.
Keep going, Miss Drama Queen.
Hey Red, like Shanley says about acting, do it “for celebration, for search, for grieving, for worship, to express that desolate sensation of wandering through the howling wilderness. Don’t worry about Art. Do these things and it will be Art.” That, more than anything about baseball specifically, is why your readership grows naturally. You’re work is rock solid, Kid.
This is one “new reader” who loved your Angel Card post (and didn’t care whether you prefaced it with a warning or not). Keep writing what you want to write.
As long as I get my red fix, no one gets hurt.
“I wonder what people will think, I wonder if they will roll their eyes, like: ‘Oh Jesus, here goes Miss Drama Queen again’.”
You say that like it’s a bad thing, but we roll our eyes because we care. ;-) No, but seriously, though, while I don’t know how to say this without it sounding trite, you shouldn’t feel a need to apologize for being yourself.
Dearest Sheila,
You and The Lovely Jess inspired me to start my blog and I’m so grateful to you both. You have, without question, been a guiding force when I’ve written some of my more personal and vulnerable entries. I’ve been tempted to edit myself when doing so but you’ve helped me overcome that. So thank you for the intensity, the passion and the inspiration. :)
Hi. I am one of those new readers, real new, this is the first full post that I read.
You are a talented writer and I will be visiting often.
Also., I think that you’re right to take ownership of your blog.
I will read, or not, and comment or not, as I see fit. And I will make those decisions based on what you choose to post. It is your blog and your choice.
Lynne
“Well, duh” is all I could think of as I read this. Of course you shouldn’t apologize. Remember a couple months ago when someone was whining about something or another, trying to steer you into writing about particular things? Basically, everyone responded along the lines of “it’s your blog, do what you want.” I think I said something like “this web site isn’t a democracy, it’s a benevolent dictatorship,” which is the same school of thought I use on my sites.
Nothing has changed. This is your little kingdom. If people have a problem with that, word on the street is that there may be one or two other sites on the Internets that they could read instead.
I have only been reading your blog since July, but I absolutely love it. I am one of the geeks who loves it when you post about the founding fathers, or about science. I love reading your posts about movies and actors (some of which, there is a good chance I have never even seen act). Even though I can’t relate to the movies and the acting… I can understand and enjoy your passion and ‘raw emotion’ in regards to them. And its that passion that brings me back here every day.
In your post you said: ” I have a TON of stories, as we all do.” I suppose we all do have a ton of stories… BUT very few of us are good storytellers. That is part of your gift. And I personally want to say thank you for sharing your stories, your passion, and your raw emotions.
I think one of the reasons I stopped blogging was that I felt I was creating a character – an Anne person who was sort of like me but not quite. As if my diary personality was taking on a life of its own. It was probably a defense against the sense of exposure you describe.
Anne –
I still haven’t gotten over you stopping your blog. But I understand. :)
I was thinking about this a lot last night. Like – should I close comments on some of these posts? If I’m so nervous about what people think, then I should just not give them an outlet to express themselves? Why not?
But then … there’s always someone out there who responds to those raw posts in the most appreciative grateful way … and I would hate to miss such comments. That’s what I mean about blogging helping me feel connected to the world.
The OTHER danger in all of this (and long-time readers will remember this) – I had a reader stalk me. He felt that because I was writing so openly on my blog, I was writing personally to him. He wrote me the nuttiest emails – he was PISSED that I wasn’t revealing MORE … He felt like he had a personal relationship with me because he read me every day. When the word “twat” was used in one of his emails to me, I panicked. I told Bill McCabe and Jim Moran, my two macho alpha-male Irish brethren – and they researched him, found out where the asshole lived, and I reported him to his ISP. They sent him a warning, and he vanished into thin air.
But it was spooky. I feel that that is a risk I take with posting so openly about my own life. People will over-identify with me, and feel like they really know me.
I mean, they do – if I share stuff, then I’m letting you in, I’m letting you know stuff about myself. But there’s a huge difference between that and actually knowing me. I FEEL like I know James Lileks. But I do not. I only know what he chooses to share. he doesn’t “owe” me anything.
Anyway. Thanks for all the lovely words, everyone. I had to just get this off my chest, and so thank you.
I will go back to my benevolent dictatorship (ha!) promptly.
Dude, dooce writes about POOP and still has millions of readers. I think we’re strong enough to handle your drama. :)
dude, we TOTALLY want to read that shit.
i personally read blogs out of a sense of abject voyeurism. the more raw, the better.
that’s what blogs are FOR.
i’m often jealous of people with the strength / confidence / insanity to write about really, deeply personal stuff. i do on occasion, but it’s carefully done. there’s about 60 percent of me that never appears online–which is really saying something considering how much i blog.
kudos to you for sharing, and being a real, raw, interesting person.
Lisa, I know, I know. Like I said, though, this is MY issue, not you guys. It’s my own struggle with being an intense person, and having half of my break-up scenes with guys involve them saying, “You’re a bit too intense for me” – and getting a complex about it.
It’s not you guys! It’s me!!
And I COULD write about poop every day. I just choose not to. Even though I do have some very funny poop stories.
Write whatever you damn well please. I’ll read it.
I love the variety and the insight and the drama and the heartbreak and the fun and the stories and the resiliency and especially the writing, but most of all I love the honesty, so keep on keeping on, Sheila – you’re a shimmering star in the blogging firmament. (I bet you know what that’s from!)
I am a ‘regular’. I am drawn by the light… Sheila, you shine!
Stevie …
Hm. Is it The Bishop’s Wife starring my main man Cary Grant?
Wild guess. I have no idea, really.
I discovered you before the Sox were ascendant, via some blog undertow in a single day — following a link from Jess, via Jake, who I found in a Google search on “Candypants” – an Ithaca band.
I’d never read bloggers as a habit before, but … this Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance happenstance has given me daily enjoyment – from all three of you – ever since.
That thing about Yoko on the bus, and judging people? I’ll apply that here. At first read I got the idea you were a conservative. I kept reading anyway, deciding it didn’t matter. Here was someone deep and literary and multifaceted and passionate about so many things, addressing her own inner passion as well as the interests and everyday happenings and people – poets, filmmakers, ballplayers, random Irish men et al. – that fired her up.
The movie stuff kind of dovetailed at the time with my own obessions with dark Hollywood movies like ‘In a Lonely Place’ and ‘Sunset Boulevard.’ And so it went. My life and intellectual pursuits and appreciation for the great human comedy have been enriched beyond belief by your mad dedication to getting it all down, to the slightest observation.
And the attraction has been the teller as much as the tales and the way they’re told.
So write, write, write – and don’t hold back. This place wouldn’t be the same with a more cautious girl at the helm.
Besides, everyone was almost poised to forget about Gibson Girls.
And ‘The Sure Thing.’
And … you name it.
Dano
PS This made me think of you – Tuesday I received a news release on Ben Stein coming to give the commencement address at Ithaca College. The release actually cited “Bueller? … Bueller? … Bueller?” as one of the funniest movie moments in some poll.
Sheila – Lina Lamont (played by Jean Hagen) in Singin’ in the Rain. She goes to the studio head to demand that Debbie Reynolds be fired, and quotes a review of herself.
Stevie: ohhhh, right!! Of course!
Dano, well I am certainly glad you decided “it didn’t matter” that I was conservative. Because that would sure be a bummer.
I love it – got an email from a guy (who has since disappeared) and he said he would “overlook” some of my political views. I emailed him back and said, “It’s not for you to overlook. That’s quite a condescending attitude. It’s for you to accept. Or NOT to accept. Whatever, it’s your choice. But don’t condescend to me about ‘overlooking’ my views. Sorry if I don’t fit the mold!!”
Hm. Wonder why he never emailed me again.
And back to more important matters:
“In a Lonely Place”. Great film, huh? SO glad I found it and passed on the good news.
Oh and I think the Gibson Girls should make a comeback … I really do. Look at all those babes, aren’t they fabulous??
A rather longer comment – I’ve been thinking a lot about Six Degrees of Separation, the movie (didn’t see the play), and Stockard Channing’s speech at Kitty Carlisle’s dinner table where she said something like, “How do we keep the occurrences of our lives from becoming anecdotes, spewed out of us like we’re these human juke boxes full of anecdotes to dine out on, go ahead, tell the story about THAT BOY. But it was an experience and I refuse to diminish it.” Something like that. Anyway, the whole idea of turning our life experiences into these packaged, polished story gems that sit so neatly on the shelf.
As I get older, I’m so aware of it when I trot out the war horses (my Palm Springs / firefighter / swimming pool story being a perfect example) and I wonder to myself, am I taking a real experience and diminishing it by the retelling? Or am I validating it in the rethinking, the reconsideration? What, after all, is storytelling and writing if it isn’t about the distillation of experience?
Blogging is somehow all about this. Yes, you are an outstanding storyteller. But more to the point, you are an honest distiller of experience in the retelling of the stories of your life, and that’s what I find so enjoyable.
Hoo boy, sounds like a hackneyed review, but I mean it.
Stevie:
Very insightful – I would never have thought of that. The distillation of experience … the way we turn real experiences into ‘stories’ – bits … and there’s something great about that, but there’s something sometimes … weird about it, too. Like you’re using the raw material of life to get a good anecdote.
Heh heh
But still, there is nothing like a good anecdote, and I will never forget your firefighters in their Union Suits swimming in the pool with you – I will never forget your descriptin of Bill Holden’s living room …
You’re passing on the goods, and it is much appreciated by this Gibson Girl over here.
I think I decided I could date one, but not marry one. Is that so wrong?
Dano – certainly not! We all have our limits on both sides of this fence.
I probably couldn’t marry someone who thought Rachel Corrie was someone to emulate and admire. To give just one example.
Dating is fine, but if I get married I need to respect the guy’s intelligence.
Stevie:
On a side note. I love Stockard Channing. There’s just something about that woman’s face … I love it. And I mean … please. Rizzo. Enough said. To be sure, she looked like a 40 year old high school student, but I loved her anyway.
Oh and Popskull:
You rock with the Shanley quote. I needed it. I love that essay – it’s so, shall we say, RAW.
I sent a Christmas card by the way to your house where I visited that time – are you still up there?
Anyhow. I miss you and thanks for the quote. “Act for celebration …”
God, yes!!
Mark – speaking of the whiners who email me and want me to write about other things (who the hell are these assholes? Set up your own blog where YOU write about that shit, and leave me to my Cary Grant obsession in peace!!)
— Anyway, I remember why that original rant you reference came out. It was Bloomsday. i was all about James Joyce. I was out of my mind with the Joyce thing.
— At the same time, the Abu Gharib DISASTER was happening.
The whiny emails (all men, strangely enough) coming: “What are your thoughts on Abu Gharib?” “Who cares about Joyce while Abu Gharib is going on?” “Wah, wah, why, why aren’t you writing about Abu Gharib?”
I literally do not understand people sometimes. I am not paid for this … I just … it’s a hobby, basically.
So weird, huh?
Hell, yeah, write what you want to write, forget it. You’re not a talking head on some screaming cable news network, desperately searching for the sound byte that’ll air on Larry King. Besides, there is a season (turn, turn, turn) – sometimes you need a little TIME (also parsley, sage and rosemary) to formulate what you THINK about something, and then, after having thought about it, you get to decide whether or not to blog about it. Damn it!!
Oh, and HAHAHA about Stockard Channing’s 40-year old high school student! I love her, too. She’s soooo New York to me for some reason. Her face: it’s that crinkly nose action that’s so damned good.
Crinkly nose? Check.
I love the story of how she got the part in Threepenny Opera – her first big role. Stevie – do you know the story? Before I go on like a big blowhard, I should know …
Don’t know the story – shoot!!! And there’s nothing blow-hardy about you, darlin.
Oh Baby!! Bring on that fucking tidal wave!! I just hope I’m still standing when it recedes. And if I’m not, I’m swimming back in!
And I’m glad you’re not Steven Den Beste since I have no freaking idea who that is.
And now i gotta go read the angel card post cuz i missed it!
Look out, David – you make a cameo in that one!!
The tidal wave has, indeed, arrived. For both of us, it looks like. Thinking of you. Thinking of the boys.
Steven Den Beste once was a blogger. He wrote the longest essays ever written by anyone, anywhere, any time.
Anne: “I think one of the reasons I stopped blogging was that I felt I was creating a character – an Anne person who was sort of like me but not quite.”
I think that’s the reason I keep blogging; I like the Mitch person I created in the blog better than the one before.
Hm. There’s a post in there.
As one who has held the sneaking (and more than slightly megalomaniacal) suspicion that the real reason Anne stopped blogging was that she was tired of my comments, I confess that I am probably somewhat more careful about commenting on your blog than I need to be. For instance, I must have been one of the first to come upon your Angel Cards post and I was all prepared to say something until I realized no one else had yet responded. “Well,” I thought, I’ll be DAMNED if I’m going to be the first one.” Not that I had any intention of saying anything insensitive or really stupid, but how is a guy to always know?
Anyway, I just wanted to say you aren’t the only one who struggles against self-censorship at times. I think we all do, to some extent. (Well, maybe not all…) But I also think that that kind of self-doubt and ultra-selfawareness is probably just a mismanifestation of a gift. (And yes, I am having second thoughts about sending this, but damitall I’m going to!)
I for one ask, how could I not enjoy anything you post? You gave me an outlet for MY obsession. Thanks, always. And just do whatever it is you want whenever.
Okay, so here’s the story of Stockard’s big break – as Jenny (I think that’s her name) in Threepenny Opera. Stockard Channing was born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth. Mkay? The chick was loaded, never had to work for a thing in her life. By that I mean – she never had to support herself with a day job, or a waitressing job. She could completely focus on acting. And so she did.
Her inherited wealth didn’t make her spoiled or lazy, she just was really grateful for it – and worked her ass off. To be a good actress, to be a damn good actress. She didn’t flaunt her wealth, but she did use it in the sense that she never had to schlepp around as a cocktail waitress, etc. She knew she was lucky.
Anyway, then along comes this fantastic part in Threepenny. Jenny is a whore, she’s downtrodden, a la Nancy in “Oliver” … (great character)
And Stockard Channing, for her audition (and she wanted that part so badly she was eating herself alive about it!) – completely dressed the part, in whorish rags, completely transformed herself – and nobody who was there (and I’ve heard several accounts of it, because I’m crazy) has ever forgotten the power of her audition.
She WAS that girl. When she was finally cast and the director realized her posh background – he was absolutely shocked.
She was able to transform herself, shed the trappings of the background, and be another character.
And, of course, Threepenny Opera launched her career pretty much.
Bernard:
Thank you. A couple of people have emailed me with the same thoughts you express here – and I’ve experienced it myself, when I’m commenting on the site of a blogger I respect, or whatever. You want to come off well.
A good rule of thumb, for me, is:
Think before posting. Just take a second – don’t agonize about it – just think. And Preview, too. See what it will look like.
And then feckin’ post it.
You cannot be a mind-reader and you cannot know what will freak someone out, their hot-buttons, whatever – you may unknowingly walk across a land-mine, and that’s not your fault.
I still think that – especially with heartfelt open posts – it’s better to think for a second before you post.
At least that’s been a good rule of thumb for me.
Oh and by the way, Bernard – that “think before posting” wasn’t directed at you specifically. I think what you describe experiencing (that slight hesitation) is, in a way, a good general rule. Just think about what the comment you make before you make it. It’s like knowing when to hold your tongue in a tense conversation.
If I’ve done 5 funny bitchy posts in a row, where everyone is teasing and snarking in the comments, that’s fine, I LOVE that, snarky teasing is one of my most common moods – but still I’ll be DAMNED if someone will tease and snark me in a post like Angel Cards. It’s inappropriate and it would hurt my feelings, and I would feel the need to lash back, or delete the comment.
Good rule: Think before you press “Post” on those raw-emotion ones.
Also – don’t comment if you don’t have anything to say. (Which doesn’t so much happen here – but I have seen it on other blogs, where the readership is much larger than mine.) I think a lot of times people compulsively comment on everything, whether or not they have anything to add. I thank God I don’t have dipshits on my blog who race to be first to comment, and all they can say is : “FIRST” in the comment. You know those asswipes? Who the fuck are those people? I suppose you would need a lot more readers to have that kind of jack-assery going on … but it seems compulsive and immature.
Do you have anything to ADD to the conversation? Or do you just need to shout FIRST?
Ewww.
If I post something that is too intense for someone, or they don’t like to hear me talk that way, or it makes them uncomfortable – then don’t fucking comment. It’s easy.
Hurrah for oddball, emotional, random venting/ranting/whinging happy insanity.
Bollocks to anyone who doesn’t hurrah in return.
Sheila – I know of what you speak, it’s why I don’t have comments on my blog, and the only people who e-mail me are those few friends who know I blog. Oh, and my boss, which is weird. And what I think from this side of the wall is that I am probably cutting myself off from a lot of love and connection and dialogue, all that you seem to get from the many who visit and read you. I’m behind and only just read this today, but what sprang (is that a real word?) to mind is how, I have always kept a private journal and I’ve always been self concsious about it because I thought, “well, what if I have a horrible car accident and DON’T die, and people read this stuff when they’re moving me to the rehabilitation hospital where I will learn to speak and walk again? And since I’m paralyzed I won’t be able to stop them?”
Because in my dramatic bouts of catastrophic thinking I’m always paralyzd or maimed or something horrible.
Anyway, I love that you share and what you share and I am considering redesigning my blog since it was mainly just to see if I could write everyday without censoring myself for the public, and I pretty much do.
I just have to remember that what everyone else thinks of me is none of my business.
Off to read the angel card entry.
Susie
Sheila, now I don’t know whether to be flippant or serious. Or even if I have anything to add. Guess I’ll hafta think about it a bit and get back to you later.
(But all kidding aside, thanks for your reply.)
“…I thought that making it public might help combat those silly ghosts.”
Now whenever I hear or read the word “ghost,” I can’t help but remember the comment in the Santa-Claus-physics thread by…Ken Hall, I think…about a kid relative matter-of-factly stating that “Cool Whip is made of ghosts.” I love that.
Sheila, thanks for the Stockard story. Wonderful. I love “incredible audition/understudy makes good” stories, that whole idea of having your talent suddenly on full-force, five million watt display for all the world to see — the sensation of the EVERYBODY turning toward you, awed, amazed, thrilled, BEHOLDING the magnificence of your talent. Well, anyway, must be nice.
“At first read, I got the idea you were a conservative.”
I admit it. I swooned a little when I read that.
You know my thoughts about your openness. It just might be your best blog quality. If you changed that, what would really be the point of this? Realistically, being open and exposing raw thoughts and feelings gets more difficult the larger your audience, and it probably opens you up to unwanted attention at times, but I imagine the rewards are meaningful enough to offset the occasional “bad” moments.
FIFTY-THOID!!! :-P
I come here to see what happens next. You’ve got guts (and broad interests), both of which I respect and admire.
Sorry for gushin’. Too much praise makes me uncomfortable, so I imagine it does others as well.
Of course, I could be wrong.
Bernard – I just noticed your comment about moi. Omigod, that of course has NOTHING to do with why I stopped.
I always thought I was fairly obvious when I was annoyed by a commenter, which didn’t happen that often. There was really only one time that I got super super annoyed. You may even recall what I’m talking about. It certainly wasn’t you.
Anne, yes, I remember. And I really didn’t think I had much, if anything, to do with your decision. (I’m not THAT self-absorbed, I hope!) But still, I couldn’t help wonder if maybe your decision was the result of a cummalitive effect, of which I had – even inadvertently – played some little part.
Thanks for setting me straight.
“cumulative” -What mortification I feel, after reading Sheila’s post on spelling errors. (Can’t believe I didn’t catch that before!)
Guess it’s time to start using that spellcheck thingy I keep hearing about, eh?