I Give Up.

I realized today that I just keep making excuses as to why I don't blog about everything I'd like to. Readers who've been here for a while know that this blog continues to evolve, but it's not just a natural evolution of things that keeps it moving -- or stalled, as the case may be.

I don't want to just write about my job as a writer, although that's a big part of it. I also want to write about being a traveler and a foodie and thirty-something geek. I've done fairly well with blending all of this together into one, semi-cohesive blog. But there's still a good amount missing. A lot that I'm wary or scared to put out there. Here's why:

Excuse #1 - I still feel like I need some sort of theme and I don't want to be all over the map here, thus alienating any of my readers. But, I think a lot of people blog about different things, and I also think by the masthead it's pretty obvious what I do for a living. 

Excuse #2 -  As a writer, my full name is pretty much out there. I'm not hard to find, and while this is true for many bloggers, and while I don't have a particularly controversial blog, and furthermore my employers know I have one, I worry, because of excuse #3.

Excuse #3 - The more information I make available here, the more fodder for the Internet Stalkers. Some of you reading this are saying, 'Stalkers?' Oh, we all have those. Who cares if they Google your name three times in three hours?'  

Well, I do and I don't. It's their prerogative to search their little lives away, but while they are wasting valuable time misspelling my first name and poring over old blog posts, they're missing out on the beauty that is Web 2.0. Dudes. I can see where you're coming from. I know how you're getting here, when, and from what computer.

That last part is what bugs me the most. Some of the Once and Future Googlers live in the same region as me. I wouldn't give one or two of those folks the time of day in real life, so why share personal bits here? That's a valid point, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that if they're spending that much time searching for info on little ole' me (completely ignoring how boring I am, hello), they probably already know everything that I think I'm hiding. 

I am private about certain things, and I always will be. Not because they're weird or bad or shameful -- I don't have a third arm growing out of my back or anything -- but just because they're mine. 

Still. There are things I'm dying to share with my real readers who come by, maybe make a nice comment (or not, that's cool too), and who've helped me in some way in the last year in particular, whether they realized they did or not. I think about some of the blogs I read regularly, and how their stories about everything from sci-fi literature to redecorating the house to cupcake recipes to Hot Blogger calendars and everything in between are entertaining, informative, and fun. Then, I think about all the stories I haven't told, and I almost feel like I'm not participating. Like I can't really be me on this blog until I get over my fear.

A couple of fellow bloggers have made this easier recently by 'outing me' on one account. They blogged about something I haven't blogged about yet, and perspective hit. Why am I hiding this? I thought. It's not my home address or deep inner-secrets we're talking about. I know I have a pretty solid core of readers who make me feel more insulated. And in addition, I have a feeling I'm going to hate myself for writing this here, but in five years of blogging, I have yet to get a mean-spirited comment. Granted, I moderate them, so you'll never see one here unless I blog about it to make fun of its inevitable bad grammar. But I've never received one. I've gotten mean e-mails, yes, but what journalist hasn't?

So what I'm saying is I'm going to open up a little. If it backfires, it backfires, and I'll go back to protecting a little more than I'd like, because I'm a wuss. I'll tell you one thing, though -- WriterJax and The Jump aren't going away any time soon. I wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction.

...that said (gulp) here's what I did with my summer vacation: 

...more later. 

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