Spacelady Resurfaces

Sorry to steal a Dooce-ism, but I owe you an apology, Internet. You've been neglected and downright ignored for far too long, and I'm sorry. Sorry that my online peeps have had to come here looking for an update and instead seen nothing but rusty mailboxes day after day. Can I confess something? I've been slacking off on more things than just blog posting. My Project 365 photo challenge? I haven't taken a single photograph in well over three weeks. And I'm not even sorry about that. My exercise regime? Nonexistent as of late. Matt and I went swimming the other night and I swear I thought my lungs would collapse after two laps. My bathroom floor? Thick with toilet paper dust bunnies (why does toilet paper generate so much dust?). Truly, it's a sad and pathetic state of affairs. On top of that I just haven't . . . well . . . how do I say this nicely? The truth is I just haven't felt like talking to you, Internet. Blogging hasn't turned out to be like what I expected it to be. I thought I'd feel free to rant and wax philosophical and be funny and deep and sincere--all the things I'd like to think I am at the truest core of me. But instead I've come to view this blog as yet another place where I need to censor myself. Be careful what I say and how I say it, because who knows who's reading it? I don't worry about the people I don't know at all who somehow found me here in my little corner of the web, or the friends-of-friends or distant acquaintances. But what about my parents? A coworker? Friends? Will they be offended? Think I'm full of myself or hateful or unkind? Or, worse yet, affected and insincere? And another thing, Internet? I'm not a very trusting person. I'm pretty guarded and private, actually, and have always been extremely careful about who I let splash around with me in my kiddie pool of neuroses, fears, traumas, and even joys, successes, and spiritual insights. So I'm just not sure I'm capable of opening up to you, Internet, and really being myself. This last year has been one of the most transformative and spiritually enlightening of my entire existence, yet I haven't shared any of that here. I wonder if I could, or if I even want to. Because do I really want to deal with all the people in my life who read this blog knowing that much about what I'm thinking and feeling and then commenting on it whenever I see or talk to them? Maybe the only way I could be that honest is if I started a new totally anonymous blog and told not a single soul that it was mine. Just put it out there, and if people stumbled upon it and connected with something I had to say and wanted to comment or dialogue about things, then great. But if not, so what? On the other hand, I think that kind of blog has already existed for eons, and it's called "a diary."