I set up this blog tonight with the intent to do only that: set it up. But looking at its blank incompleteness bothered me; I'm not one to leave things half-finished. Still, what was I supposed to do with it? I'm not really a "blog" kind of person; I said that in class today, and I'm saying it again. Yet it isn't out of the realm of possibility that this is something I could get into. There is something freeing in just writing whatever I feel like, whenever I feel like it. No guidelines to contemplate, no directions to follow, no parameters to stay between.
Actually, one of the main things holding me back was that I simply didn't know if anyone really cared that much about what I had to say - it seemed like somewhat of a narcissistic pursuit. That has been removed, as this is required for a grade. How liberating! When all of those anti-blog people with whom I used to be kinsmen protest "You keep one of those?" I have an instant out - "But I have to for class. I mean, I know that no one really cares what I think, but this professor wants us to..." Perfect. See? I can totally have my cake and eat it too; I am able to see myself as both "not the type of person who keeps a blog," and "someone who is now keeping a blog," and not have those incongruous things be completely at odds. (Even if I am stretching it a bit...)
It just seems like nowadays everyone shares everything with everyone else, whether they want to hear it or not. I think my generation is probably the worst so far at being private. We share everything: from Facebook to YouTube to anonymous (and sometimes not) confession boards to all kinds of other media at our disposal to reveal ourselves. I'm skeptical about being a part of this. Yes, I have a Facebook, I admit. But as I was telling my dad the other day in the car, anything and everything that goes on it, goes up with the express knowledge, at the very forefront of my mind, that any and all of it can be public at any time. In some ways, I think I use it as a public presentation of myself. I re-think, re-word and process my status updates to the nth degree before posting them. I not only worry about what I am going to write, but after all of that editing and censoring and general nonsense, I have the gall to then worry that I sound casual and off-hand!
Actually, I think that my mom, in particular, imbued me with a particularly healthy respect and, to a certain extent, wariness, not only about the kind of image I present to the world ("hold on, that shirt has a stain on it - take it off and let me get it out," "that coat has cat hair all over it, let me get the roller!" "brush your hair - people will think that your parents don't care about you!") and, in particular, about what I put on the internet. Nothing can be assumed to be completely inaccessible, nothing can be truly deleted, first impressions can't be taken back, and, dear, you really need to learn how to press the "logout" button. She's right about all of this, of course. If not for her, I probably still wouldn't brush my hair, would walk around in dirty clothes all the time, and be one of those people whose Facebooks are full of clutter and crap and whatever happens to pop into their heads while on the internet: "goin 2 the bathrm, lol." But she's my mother, and she's supposed to nag at me about these things and I'm supposed to be half-resentful, half-grateful for her interventions. We make it work.
Getting back to the topic at hand: the blog, I just was hesitant to join in the process of what felt like "SO MUCH" sharing of myself. As far as how I display myself publicly, I would consider myself a "secret private person." What does that mean, exactly? It means that I put up an incredible facade of openness. I am very friendly and outgoing; it is a part of my personality, but also something I work to put forward, even if it's not always how I'm feeling. But there is also a lot that I hold back. I mean, who doesn't? It may be partially that I'm hesitant to share certain things, but there's also this latent anxiety of "saying too much." Perhaps one of my greatest fears is sharing some of these important things I keep to myself, and not having anyone care. I shouldn't expect them to, and I don't. I don't think anyone can find you nearly as interesting as you find yourself, in most cases. However, when asked to be honest, I almost without fail am. To a fault, I should add. I've been told on more than one occasion that I'm a terrible liar. I feel as though this skill might be a useful one to have, except for the fact that when I try to lie, my heart isn't really in it. People who know me even cursorily can usually figure me out. And that's probably what my subconscious intends all along, however much my conscious self disagrees or protests.
And now we get to the dichotomy. I may sound like I'm contradicting myself, and trust me I'm probably n--... oh wait, I probably am. I am both a person who attempts to hold together a facade of exactly what details about me I want the world to see, yet at the same time will be almost unfailingly honest when asked a direct question about myself. So what could this possibly mean for my writing on here?
It means that I'm a little worried about this expedition. If you ask me to write about what I'm thinking, I'm going to write about what I'm thinking. Whether I would normally share it with you or not. If this were not an assignment, I would actually probably be even more intense about being careful, because, well, no one asked me. But someone did - so now I have to balance my desire for privacy, fears that no one cares and intense honesty... all in this nice little "blogger" format. I will try to censor myself to some degree, to make myself sound more likable, charming and interesting. But for the most part, I think that what you read will be as real as I can make it.
We'll see how that goes.
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