Sunday, August 22, 2004

And so it begins...

but what is "it," exactly?

I never thought I'd start a blog. Indeed, I may still not be starting a blog...this may always be the only entry I have. But I grew tired of posting anonymously onto The Girlfriend's and other friends' blogs, so here I am. And, for whatever different reasons, here you are.

A few problems come to mind--the deck is stacked against this blog lasting. Here they are, in the order I think of them:

--I'm a teacher. I will write wondering if students will ever discover this blog. There's a reason for this. I have a website out there in the world where I had posted some of my poetry, including one poem that's fairly steamy. Next thing you know, I had about 15 hits on a Sunday night after having next to none previously. The Girlfriend was away at a wedding, so I thought maybe her friends had discovered the site at a party and were checking out my sex poem, making fun of her...nope. My students were reading it. I pulled it off the site that night, but learned my lesson...don't put up anything I don't want my students (or their parents, including the nosy malicious do-gooders that pop up every now and again) to read. As a result, I plan on being hyper-anal about avoiding discovery. I don't have my name on here, my hometown, my school, any ties to my website, or ANY identifying information...and yet I'm not fully comfortable. Whatever. Maybe I'll get over it.

--I'm a referee. I know, just know, that if I write about my ballgames, some coach or parent with anger management issues will stumble upon this, and nothing good has ever come from a ref conversing with any coach or parent outside of very specific parameters--parameters outside this blog. Again, with my name and hometown absent here, this seems to be a very, very unlikely worry...but it's there, sitting in the back of my head like a sniper or a public urinator or something equally unwelcome. (Shit, is THAT the first metaphor of my blog???) Nonetheless, I endure.

--I'm a poet. But I've been suffering from horrible poetic constipation for some time now. Is any of that is because I've been posting to my silly website instead of writing poetry? Will having this blog reduce or increase the chances I have of writing? Plus, writing about my own poetry about feels silly and highly pompous to me. I hardly think the world needs another pretentious windbag blog.

But I've liked reading my friends' blogs, so hell, here goes.

I mostly feel like I'll put little things I've noticed that aren't necessarily important or germane to my life. This won't be a journal, per se, in that I doubt you'll truly be able to follow important aspects of my life in here. They might inevitably pop up every now and then. What the hell will this look like? ("I saw a fascinating bumper sticker today on my way home from winning the Nobel Prize." "Aren't those large print Readers' Digests fascinating? I think so. I was just noticing them at the doctors' office right before he told me my tumor was inoperable.") I don't know. So we'll see. Will I be the careful blog-gardener or the apathetic blog slum-lord? We'll know soon enough.

Welcome aboard.

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