Cindy over at Figs, Lavender & Cheese (one of my favourite blog names) wrote a post about getting together with some fellow bloggers in San Francisco and heading out to wine country for a little nature, food, wine and blog talk. The photos of their meals will make you salivate but the fun they had getting to know one another in Real Life just made me jealous. The comments people made about the post were telling and many echoed exactly how I feel about telling people in my RL about my blog.
One astute commenter said "It is often awkward to start a conversation- "this woman on this blog I read--" so I have started saying "this woman I know", hoping I don't hear "from where?" because the answer "online" sounds a little creepy."
That is so true. I read so many interesting blogs and very opinionated comments that it is hard not to repeat them in RL conversations. The first couple of times I made mention of my blog I mostly got, "Really, I don't even have the time to go on facebook." (That's a slam from another mother if I ever heard one.) Then I would get "Really, what is it about?" My explanation usually goes something along the lines of, "Well, it is my way of getting back into writing after an 11 year hiatus," or " It's a way to have contact with the outside world while sitting at my desk all day doing mundane things for our family business." You can just picture the glazed over look this provokes.
Why is it so hard to explain to the non-blogging world what it is like to wake up itching to see what late night rants Dr. Monkey Muck has written or what toils and tribulations One Glass at a Time has been through over the weekend or even what gorgeous photos of Paris Simply Photo has posted. Every day I add another to my Must Read list. I am disappointed when there isn't anything new to read. What's the deal? Did you have to go and make dinner or get to work on time or something?
I have to admit that I also rush in from running errands to see if I have any new comments on my most recent, and what I considered, most brilliant post. I make notes to myself all the time - while I wait to pick up the boys, while I am in the car (I pull over, usually) at night while I am reading or watching TV. My family has noticed all this but so far everyone seems to ignore it unless they see a photo of themselves on the screen and then you'd think they were famous, they get so excited. Don't want to break it to them that they are known only to 13 followers, one of whom is their great aunt.
I hesitated using the term "Real Life" in the title of this post since I consider what I write about to be very real and I am sure what I read is all too real for many bloggers. Just because it is online doesn't make it any less so. We're not having sex or gambling away our kids' university fund or drinking ourselves under the table. No, we just talk/write alot about doing those things. Why do we still consider things done online creepy? The bastion of middle-aged men who live in their parent's basements and play war games in their Stormtrooper Helmets.
This blogging thing is very hard to explain - the connections, the friendships. I did have one friend who was very interested and I told her all about the women who flew from across the continent to attend the funeral of another blogger's daughter. None of them, as far as I know, had ever met in RL. Or the outpouring of support, emotional and financial for Braja in India who was in a terrible car accident. The friendships are real, as are the connections and in this somewhat fragmented world where we may or may not live close to family that counts for alot. So I, for one, will continue to read about your children and spouses. I will feel better knowing that I am not the only one who loses it with either of the above and I will live vicariously through the bright young things who blog about fashion and style. I will continue to make notes on the fantastic recipes and drool over the food photos and be inspired by the elegant rooms in the many design blogs. It's a strange and wonderful world out there and even if I can't explain it very well it is a real part of my life.