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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.

There is much about the blogosphere that I’ve yet to learn. With each post, I bare my soul to anyone who is willing to listen. This is a unique opportunity for me to communicate about topics that may be uncomfortable or very personal. Sometimes I simply need to share my wonderment at life. Other times I am testing the waters, seeking validation or fresh input. In hanging my ass out on the line, I’m expecting my readers to be friends. I expect them to either cut me a break or, if they are strangers and stumble into my world, I figure they’ll shake their heads and move on, looking elsewhere for more substance. What do I do when I discover ghosts from the past have risen to peer over my shoulder and shake their fingers in my face? Perhaps, in addition to my original expectations, my Blog will test my equanimity and maturity. Will I measure up?