Patio Dining

I have really hesitated writing this because 1) it makes me grumpy thinking about it 2) it produces no warm fuzzies and 3) who really cares? This is just my vent...my moronic way of dealing with frustrations. I simply cannot fester. I must explain and expose and say too much. Unfortunately and all too often, it's my way of processing and I usually leave a wake of regret. But, for the last several days, I haven't been able to shake off this tingly sense of being annoyed. I'm feeling defensive without being attacked. It's got to stop.

It all stems from the recent switch of many to private blogs. And from there the comments about the switch. All sorts of "Good idea"s or "it's probably time"s, which gets me feeling all a frenzy. Am I being irresponsible with this blog? Am I endangering the lives of all my loved ones by recklessly typing about my family's bowling trip?

I have no desire to go private. If I want to write to people I know, I'll send out an email. If I want to keep a daily record of my day, I'll safely keep to Microsoft Word. Blogging is so different, to me, than those things. But, by not going private, am I sending the message that I'm not a good mom?

I remember starting this whole thing and the questions and concerns that were expressed by my friends and family. "Is it safe?" they asked. "Aren't you worried about some stranger reading your blog?" they worried. My response was always, "C'mon! Do you know how many millions upon millions of blogs there are? Who is going to care about mine?"

Well....more than I originally thought about for sure. I certainly didn't think I'd be regularly commenting on people's blogs like we shared a locker in high school, but, who I've actually never met and then meeting these new friends for lunch. No...I never imagined any of those things. It is much bigger than I ever imagined.

But it is still so.... incredibly.... insignificant. We live in a freaky world. I could dig a bomb shelter, get a concealed weapons permit, shred every thing I throw away, get an unlisted number, home school, and only buy organic food. Each of those things, in theory, keep me and my family safer. But that's not me (although, occasionally, I do splurge for organic milk after a certain someone made a certain comment at bookgroup once).

I pay my bills online. I only floss about a week before I have a dentist appointment. I speed. I don't own one of those seats for my kids to sit in the grocery cart germ-free. I blog.

Are open blogs the safest things in the world? Certainly not. I would never, ever argue that with anyone. Am I against someone switching theirs to private? No way! Do what you've gotta do! Right on!

But....I don't want to.

I love open blogs. I love reading strangers blogs and coming across one every once in a while that moves me to tears or puts a smile on my face. I love being inspired, being put to task, being outraged. Somehow, it grounds me. It's like this really cool sidewalk cafe where I can walk around and sit at different tables. Sometimes, I sit with the artists and just shake my head. Theirs is simply a different experience in life. Other times, I sit and listen to the writers and my jaw drops at their ability. Most of the time, I hang with the ones I know, welcoming others to my own table. We each get a turn to talk and listen, but in perfectly slow motion. If I don't have time to listen, you don't say anything. And if I'm speaking, no one interrupts. In a day when it is increasingly difficult to manage social calls, outings with friends and play dates, I can't imagine anything more ideal.

Except, perhaps, a sidewalk cafe where there are no dangerous villains waiting for our friendly guards to drop. That is, of course, a reality. And I could stay inside, request a private table safe from the stares and smoke, but it's so pretty outside. The view is great, the weather perfect and the seat comfortable.

I'll stay outside. For now. I'll keep my eyes open and my numbchucks at my side, but I want to be a part of this great conversation.