I enjoy reading personal blogs. I like being immersed into someone’s life, following along as they tell me about their day to day life, weaving an intricate web of privacy dashed with storytelling that paints a picture. They don’t require the dedication of a book and aren’t as expensive as magazines. I can relate to most of these women and use it as an escape from my daily life, to gain a glimpse a life that exists outside of Sparks.
Yet it drives me nuts when bloggers become vague, as if they're keeping a secret. When they suddenly begin to only share surface things, you know, instead of the honest stuff, the stuff that kept you coming back to their blog in the first place. Why bother blogging if you're not willing to go head first?
As a blogger I understand that this can be a difficult web to weave. While I enjoy writing and journaling our lives and the feedback I often receive, I sometimes crave a little privacy. I enjoy being free of the scrutiny and anxiety that comes from posting your life online. This typically happens during times of trial, when I'm feeling my weakest and don't want anyone's opinion or just feel like plain crap and can't bring myself to put in the effort.
So, all of this goes to say that I'm pregnant. Doubled over with constant nausea, popping zofran like it's candy, pregnant. Gwen's potty training was unsucessful. And I got a promotion at work. And that's what I meant by vaguely saying that 2013 was going to be joyful.