To blog

I've been strolling around the blogosphere lately, following a chain of link-the-links through (mostly) parenting blogs that catch my eye.



I already knew this on some level, but good god almighty are there a lot of blogs out there. Funny blogs. Sloppy blogs. Boring blogs. Unendurably clever blogs.



I'm experiencing a mixture of warm fuzzies and abject terror.



As a woman who doesn't get out much, this is, ironically, the closest I've ever come to being a social butterfly. I read! I comment! I put my foot in my mouth!



I'm a little bit jealous of the good blogs, even though life isn't a competition, I still get the distinct feeling that that guy over there who is just a lot funnier and that woman over there who slays me with her writing just knocked me down a little further in my own self estimation.



I mean, it's about time I got out there and lived a little. Sigh. But I'm beginning to remember why I elected to enter life a wall flower in the first place. There are so many stupid things one can say. Why not say nothing?



Because then the world wouldn't be the beautiful chaotic cacophony that it is. I kinda like the world. I like the noise. I like the pomp. I like the bruised egos and the illusions of grandeur. I like the smiles and the pageantry and the awkward moments. And if I like all of that, then I need to do my part. Contribute. Say something. Say the most off-putting ignorant things that come to mind. And then if I'm lucky, and anyone is paying attention, I can just smile and soak in the backlash.