My First Blog

My friends keep telling me to blog.

I have no idea what they mean or why they're telling me to blog. I joined Facebook about five months ago, and have since been peppered by comments like, "Please blog," "Do you blog?" and "Why don't you already have a blog?"

Well first of all, I'm not sure if I should feel complimented or insulted. Am I just talking/posting too much? Are they really saying, "Please take all your incessant ramblings to some other site"? Or am I just funny, and for some reason, blogging would offer me a better venue? Honestly I have no idea. And in fact, I'll do well to remember the name of the blog and how I can find it to post again.

My questions as a first-time blogger are 1) Who reads this? 2) How does someone find my blog? 3) Who would want to read what I have to say?

#3 must be a popular thought among bloggers, as I tried to name my blog several versions of the idea, and all were taken. So there must be a lot of us out here who have a lot to say and are certain that nobody would want to read any of it. And this leads me to 4) Should I try to be anonymous out here in blog-land, so I can say what I really think? This is such a very interesting adventure!

Finally, here's the background. Ever since I've been online, I've been feeling a little like a cyber-stalker. I feel I must always send out this preface: "I'm not crazy. I'm just an incredibly social person who, by her own choice, now exists in isolation, barring a few preschoolers here or there." To translate: I used to have this incredibly social job, and I quit to stay home with three very young children and am losing my friggin' mind.

So maybe that's why "they" told me to blog. They could tell I was, well, losing it... and they knew that writing is cathartic, so they were trying to get me some help. I read this book once called "Drunk, Divorced and Covered with Cat Hair," and it was written by a chick whose blog was so popular that publishers begged her to get published. Maybe this is my ticket... about to be punched, so I can finally move to the beach and get paid to ramble. Sigh... I can dream, can't I?

Mom says my writings make me sound desperate. Don't tell her I've been writing again.