maiden voyage

I've been sitting on the fence about the blogging phenomenon for some time. I know a lot of people who blog and I'm a fan of quite a few of them. It's how I keep track of my friends and the goings-on in their lives and, most importantly, how I get my daily infusion of celebrity gossip. Hah.

As enticing as the concept of blogging is, it's also quite intimidating, as it leaves one vulnerable and open to scrutiny by friends, family and strangers alike. Generally speaking, I'm a pretty self-conscious person (although I'm good at keeping that fact on the down low), so the thought of exposing myself in this way petrifies me to no end. What if my blog is not remotely interesting, funny or entertaining enough to be read and enjoyed by anyone other than my parents? (And they don't really count because, as parents, they *have* to like their kids' stuff, just as they liked the matching macaroni necklaces I brought home from Kindergarten.)

Then there's the task of coming up with material for one's blog. This can be a perilous venture, especially if the subject of a particular entry happens to be a member of your readership. All of a sudden, you're faced with a dilemma: "to post, or not to post?" If you go ahead with it, you either have to play nice to keep the peace, or tell it like it is and wait anxiously for the fallout. Gee, sounds like fun. Not that I plan on coming out guns a'blazing or anything, but if I've gotta rant, I'm not going to hold back. Much. (OK. Maybe, I'll tone it down a little, but that's it! It's called writer's integrity, people, and I'm not about to compromise mine for the sake of saving someone from a case of bunched panties.) The key here is just not to give me any fodder, OK?

At the end of the day, I guess blogging is something you do for yourself. A guilty pleasure. A place to chronicle your experiences, interests, random thoughts and pretty much everything else that people are tired of you going on about.

So, I'm not too sure how this blog will evolve, but I hope I manage to entertain you at least some of the time. Or not. Because, really, isn't it all about me?


Here goes nothing...