I realized recently that I'm hiding in plain sight.
My name is in the phone book and if you Google my phone number, you could have a map to my house (good luck finding it though! There are advantages to living in the city in the Land Of One Way Streets). There are pictures of me, my husband, and my kids on this blog, and Jason is my husband's real first name. This blog? Not private. Anyone could find it. Some people have been finding it (as evidenced by Senorita Sassypants and all the rudeass comments she's been leaving lately). My husband has even been coming around lately. My husband, the most private man in America. The man who would, a year ago, have officially freaked the freak out if he knew I had a blog, now encourages me to blog my feelings and ask "the internet" their opinions on our personal situations. He still doesn't read my blog, but that's cool with me. Because sometimes I just need to talk about his bald head and not have him read it.
I post about the crap in my life. My weight, my job, my rejection letters (just one, so far, but the year is young!), and my questionable parenting skills. I haven't brought myself around yet to post about my children's birth (it sucked) or The Number Which is My Weight (too much) or the friend who used to be my friend and who isn't my friend anymore and how freaking sad it all makes me. I also hope I post about the good stuff in my life. My kids and how freaking happy they make me, mostly. My husband and how freaking happy he makes me, usually. My dog, my friends, Diet Pepsi. The best things in life.
I've made friends. I've made enemies. Well, probably not enemies. But people that don't think I'm cool.
And it's all okay.
I'm getting to the point that I'm not afraid.
Because what's good about blogging outweighs anything that might be bad. Writing here (and my therapist) helps me to not go off the deep end. Yesterday? I was thinking about how I had written about how angry and upset I'm getting in life and how things just suck. And you know? They do. Man, do they suck right now. But also yesterday? When I wasted two hours of my life that I'll never get back sitting through a meeting because someone else was a complete idiot? And I REALLY REALLY REALLY TIMES HINTY BILLION wanted to turn around to him and say, "OH MY GOD I WILL KILL YOU!" I didn't. I did nothing. I said nothing. Because I realized that wouldn't be me. And I don't have to be like that. I don't have to be so angry. I don't have to, you know, shriek at him, even though he really freaking deserved it.
I can just blog about it instead.
Because, you know, he's lucky my foot is not in his ass. Because blogging is making me a better person.
Or at least one who has something to say.