A blog that isn't all sunshine and roses.

My gal pal Jennifer  sent an email to day with a link to this blog with this post.
(And for the record, I don't think she is happy at all.  Momentary happiness, possibly.)


The following is my comment to the post:

A friend emailed this post to me and the subject line said "I don't know what to make of this post."



I had never seen your blog, before. I read and read and read and hit links and hit back and hit more links. Like a train wreck, I couldn't take my eyes off of it.


I can't decide if you are psycho or just the most honest person I've ever read. I make jokes about my own blog that it is the life I wish I had. Part of that is because every ounce of creativity and expression dries up when I am in angst. Perhaps I should push through. I try to write my blog for myself, but as Steve Martin says, anyone who says they are writing for themself is a liar because anyone who writes is writing to be read. I feel as if my own blog is sunshine and roses most of the time and we all know that isn't real life. I was almost offended when someone said it was a sweet, happy blog.


Because I have been an enabler in the past and still have enabling tendencies and because I try to see the best in people...I'm going with you are the most honest blogger I've ever read and even if you are psycho, you aren't afraid to tell the world, which takes a lot of balls.


I will keep reading and get back to you on this.


Cheryl

I would urge you to read her blog and get back to me on this.  What do people really want?  Do they want to read it all- the good, the bad and the ugly?  Is it poor manners to reveal all?  Is nothing sacred?  Do we want to air our dirty laundry in public? 
 
The first blog I ever read was Stephanie Klein's Greek Tragedy.  Doug sent her blog to me in an email saying "I ran across this and thought you might enjoy it."  I don't know how he ran across her blog.  I started reading her blog years ago when her twins were born prematurely. 
 
You know how you happen upon a blog and you read and read and read and keep going back and back and back and gobbling up their life?  That is how I was with Stephanie Klein.  That is how I was just now with Penelope. 
 
I love a lot of things about the blog community.  I think it is hard to explain to someone who isn't a part of the blog community what it is like.  First of all, it takes a certain type of person.  Writers are usually open and spew and put themselves and their lives and everyone in their lives into their blog.  Someone who is related to me has said "don't put this in your blog and don't put photos of this in your blog."  I understand that and respect her wishes. 
 
When I write something positive about Doug, his chest puffs up and he struts like a rooster in a hen yard.  And when I write something negative about him, he either doesn't mention at all or he will say "did you have to say that about me?"  This is when I say "if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.You are with a writer." 
 
Personally, I would rather write about something on my blog than on facebook.  I grew up singing in a church before about six hundred people.  Then later in life I found myself singing in a little country church before about fifty or sixty people.  When I sang in front of six hundred people it was easy.  I was singing for the masses.  They were a blur.  When I sang before fifty or sixty people in a small country church, they were literally up close and personally and eye-balling me.  I could see their faces!  It was a lot harder to do that.  For me, that is how I compare my blog and facebook.  My blog is for the masses.  Facebook is for the country church. 
 
I've gotten to know some of the people whose blogs I read and some of the people who read my blog.  One person I've become closest to says she  aspires to be more with her readers.  I know she and I are very real in the emails we exchange.  Another woman that I email with behind the scenes says that one thing she likes about the blog community is that we share things with one another that we wouldn't share with family. 
 
I know that I write because I need to write.  I know there are nights I cannot go to bed until I write about something that is on my heart and mind.  And I know there have been nights that I've got out of bed to write. They say that sixty thousand people read Penelope Trunk's blog. 
People must want it all.  The good, the bad, the ugly.