For God’s sake, I am the actual worst at blogging. The spark was reignited last night at my book club, though, so here I am.
About a year ago, I became friends with a friend of hers and life was awesome. This friend is active on the internet and formed a book club with some ladies from tumblr. I invited myself to join and last night was the second meetup I was able to attend. We’d read Swamplandia! so we chatted about the book, watched the Olympics opening ceremony, and ate spicy noodles with peanut sauce.
We also talked about the internet – specifically, the phenomenon of internet friends. Seriously, that may have been one of the first conversations I’ve had with a group of people in which having friends from the internet was considered normal. I’ve spent, oh, thirteen years trying to conceal the fact that I write online, talk to “strangers” via the computer, and have friends I’ve never met. I don’t know that it’s become more acceptable in all circles, but I love that I now know people who get it.
All of this goes well with my recent epiphany that maybe it’s time to stop hiding parts of who I am. It’s not that I hide anything big; blogging, my taste in music, and the breast cancer gene aren’t exactly Big Secrets. At the same time, I’ve realized I’m not exactly forthcoming about anything. I hate sharing opinions on things lest I be judged; I hate talking about things I like lest someone laugh at me. And really? I’m twenty-seven years old. It’s time to stop feeling like a teenager.
Part of that means blogging more. I don’t plan to advertise this blog on all my social media, but maybe a good start is to actually, you know, use it. Aaaand I am trying to use tumblr again. I created it back in 2009 to post sad things related to the breakup in which I was enmeshed; now, we’ll see what I do with it.