Dear people who know me in "real life" who have recently discovered this website,
No, I am not naive enough to think that the Internet is a private place. I am, in fact, well aware that anyone can read what I write here. Even you. And maybe even your mom. Or the 14 other people you e-mail this URL to thinking that you're in on something.
I hate to break it to you, but this site has never been a secret. Those who know me well often hear me talk about my blog or the many friends I have met online. And even though I write about some very private moments, my innermost fears and my sex life, I am not ashamed of any of it.
Actually, it's the exact opposite. I take pride in what I've written here. I was even approached a few months ago by a major international book publishing company about writing a nonfiction piece sharing my cynical, yet hopelessly optimistic take on modern weddings. The rep and I didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on the details, so it didn't pan out, but the opportunity arose solely because of this blog. And even if nothing else ever comes of it other than the camaraderie I get from people who comment when the mood strikes, that's fine with me. The personal satisfaction outweighs any snide remarks you can think of.
That said, I don't expect everyone to understand blogging. Hell, I used to be one of them. I mean, it's a strange thing. Possibly a little vain on my part and a little voyeuristic on yours, but if you don't like being a part of this amazing form of communication that's sweeping the globe, that's connecting people who would otherwise never meet, that's making people who have irrational fears or weird fetishes or trying to overcome adversity realize that they're not alone, then go make use of your favorite search engine and look up "monkey gonads" or "toe fungus" or "Justin Timberlake naked" or whatever else it is you do online.
And just to prove that I'm totally okay with sharing here, even knowing that people I interact with on a regular basis are reading, my favorite brand of tampons is Tampax. With the cardboard applicator. You know, to do my part for the environment. I'm not quite up for wearing a cloth baby diaper like my crazy Women's Lib professor did in college, then rinsing it in a bowl of water and using the bloody mess to feed my plants ... but, hey, to each her own.
So, in short, welcome to my blog. Feel free to leave your angry sarcasm in a comment rather than whispered behind my back.
Kelly (aka novelle360 ... then again, you already knew that)