Ambivalent blogger?

Ok, I have to admit that I'm not too sure about this blogging business. During my treatment for breast cancer (2006-2007), I wrote frequently on a site called Caring Bridge. Caring Bridge is a free site that was set up specifically for individuals with a significant medical event in order to allow for an easy way to keep friends and family in the loop. It was fabulous. For me, I mean. I could go there and hold no punches at any time of the day or night. I could say things there that I just couldn't say on the phone or in person. The problem with laying it all out to a real live person, you see, is that you have to deal with the reaction factor. If you've had a serious illness or been through on with someone you know what I mean. Your mother just does NOT want to hear about how you don't know if you can make it through one more treatment. And yet, the fact remains, that there are just going to be days like that. For me, not getting that out was toxic soup territory.

Caring Bridge offered a place to do that. People could log in, read my journal entries and even write messages in the guestbook. I could put up pictures, change the scenery, and post useful web links. Big deal, right? I could do most of that just through an email group post. The beauty of the whole thing? As an author, it was IMPOSSIBLE to respond to people's comments in the guestbook. Don't get me wrong. One of the most uplifting and supporting aspects of my treatment was having people write in to me there and it made my treatment a whole lot bearable and a lot less lonely. But the burden was lifted. I could read and enjoy, revel and cry without ever feeling like I needed to respond.

And here's where I am this morning. As I have moved further away (KNOCK on wood) from treatment, I found myself missing a place to write. Many suggested blogging, but I have to admit, I'm not much of a computer person. It's a little foreign-language'ish to me. I know it's not hip, but I don't know how to download pictures from the camera, I don't get the myface/space (whatever!), we recently got rid of our cell phone, we don't have a tv, and every now and again I even (gasp!) go on a rage about getting rid of the email. It's not that I am not computer literate (just in case you're considering me for one of those part-time jobs I have been applying for) - I can do a lot of computer stuff. Heck, the past couple of days I've even been working on a new web page for the farmers market. I recognize that there are beneficial aspects. I have been wanting for months now to post on etsy.com to try and sell some of my fiberwork. The farmers market web page I inherited truly is (soon to be was) embarassing. I just don't naturally spend my time with technology. And I don't really get it so I have to work at it a little harder.

So, Lissa loans me this book. Julie & Julia: 365 days, 524 recipes, 1 tiny apartment kitchen by Julie Powell (is there no way to underline here - see THIS is exactly the sort of thing I am talking about!). Julie Powell is floundering (kinda like me but for different reasons) so she hatches this plan to give herself a year to cook through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. And she blogs her way through the year. Along the way she picks up followers and develops relationships with them. She grabs some press attention from various sources and voila - the book. Well, she inspired me. Her writing was honest and funny and, well......., I've always kinda wanted to write a book. And. let's face it. I'm no spring chicken. I finished the book, found the emails (waaaay back there in the 35 pages of emails in my inbox) from friends advising me of this site and here I am. Ambivalence fully attached and functional. I mean, what would be worse? Getting followers or NOT getting them? I've never really pursued the writing thing (although I do tend to get compliments on my writing ) because SOOOOO much is already being said. What can I, with all my inner wriggly worms, possibly add.? And, what if I write something so meaningless and boring (like the book I tried to get myself back to sleep with at 1 am this morning and only ended up getting mad because it was so bad?) that all I accomplish is end up adding to the drivel.

And then there is just the reality of life with small children and that darn lung nodule. I got up in the dark to do a little writing. Everyone was supposed to stay asleep, for heavens sake. All but two sentences of this have been written with one child wanting me to finish reading the last few chapters in the Redwall book we have been sharing (fairly patiently, I might add, thanks to our supply of TinTin books) while the other (not so quietly and not so patiently) sat on my lap trying to crawl into my bathrobe. What memories will they have of me? Do I want to encourage the shooing-them-off-my-lap ones? And therein lies the rub of all of life. Balance.

Check out Caring Bridge at www.caringbridge.org.