Wednesday, May 28, 2008
two things.
thing one: alarming messages regarding the serious ill health of the loved ones of loved ones have been showing up. like anyone, i never have any idea how to convey my sympathy in manner that approaches both adequate and appropriate. i took a page from a wise man and stumbled in. i'm not going to say anything else because i can't imagine what would be . . . useful, in any way.
thing two: i was watching dooce's interview with kathie lee gifford and hoda kotb re: "mommy blogging," (glak, vomit) and as heather deftly fielded the do-you-have-boundaries-for-what-you'll-share-on-the-blog question, i started realizing that i no longer know all the people who show up here. or rather, there used to be two categories: internet strangers, and friends i gave the URL to. at some point, i could no longer be sure i knew who knew, and the silly pseudonym is no real protection. recently there have been a few references to this thing that made me realize that the words don't only go into the series of tubes, or into the pocket of the five friends who comment here.
which is okay. but my judgment, like heather's, about what's appropriate or where my boundary is has changed over the years. especially since this thing started during a sort of . . . heady time. i think there were rants in those early days that, were anyone to come across them now, would be hurtful, and reflect badly on me, deservedly, and maybe seal the fate of relations that might once have been more mutable. and it might be that they have been comed across already, and that you read the unfair or ugly thing i said about you in a moment of pain or confusion, and that was that.
and it might be that the six readers who still end up here once in a while are thinking, get over it, whatever your real name is. you're not famous and no one's interested. i get that. but i don't like thinking that i was an asshole--a was that becomes an am when you realize it's all still in the archives once the spleen has passed. needing to vent is innocent enough; doing it publicly is different. i guess i didn't quite know this was public, at the beginning. things still felt insulated. i think they're probably not now, if they ever were, and so if you think this applies to you, you are probably right: i'm sorry about that. i am actually very, very sorry.
thing two: i was watching dooce's interview with kathie lee gifford and hoda kotb re: "mommy blogging," (glak, vomit) and as heather deftly fielded the do-you-have-boundaries-for-what-you'll-share-on-the-blog question, i started realizing that i no longer know all the people who show up here. or rather, there used to be two categories: internet strangers, and friends i gave the URL to. at some point, i could no longer be sure i knew who knew, and the silly pseudonym is no real protection. recently there have been a few references to this thing that made me realize that the words don't only go into the series of tubes, or into the pocket of the five friends who comment here.
which is okay. but my judgment, like heather's, about what's appropriate or where my boundary is has changed over the years. especially since this thing started during a sort of . . . heady time. i think there were rants in those early days that, were anyone to come across them now, would be hurtful, and reflect badly on me, deservedly, and maybe seal the fate of relations that might once have been more mutable. and it might be that they have been comed across already, and that you read the unfair or ugly thing i said about you in a moment of pain or confusion, and that was that.
and it might be that the six readers who still end up here once in a while are thinking, get over it, whatever your real name is. you're not famous and no one's interested. i get that. but i don't like thinking that i was an asshole--a was that becomes an am when you realize it's all still in the archives once the spleen has passed. needing to vent is innocent enough; doing it publicly is different. i guess i didn't quite know this was public, at the beginning. things still felt insulated. i think they're probably not now, if they ever were, and so if you think this applies to you, you are probably right: i'm sorry about that. i am actually very, very sorry.
