there is no middle ground here

i've grown to hate this blog. i know you're loving to read this.

anyway, i can't figure out how to reconcile the different interests here. i mostly write to process, and i dont want to turn this all livejournal, mostly because i havent got the anonymity that would require. i could resort to photoblogging, but i was trying to make it more personal than that. 

and i dont have any idea what people actually want to read here, want out of me, and this. 

i guess i could find some way to squeeze a narrative out of finding an old half-rotten log under the pile of fliches (cut offs) next to the saw mill, and squeezing enough cured heartwood pine out of it to start the staircase.

how about attempting to rewire my solar batteries more efficiently, and it not working till i put them back the inefficient way? what's the story there?

or nada's first attempt at canning, tonight. not quite epic, but certainly a trial. 

there's so much strangeness that you dont know - maybe i need an anonyblog, i feel there're things i could tell, but not to my friends and family (assuming that's who's reading this). life is strange. and i'm not going to vent/process here. there're enough variables involving hurt feelings when i know who i'm talking to. 

Comments

[emily]

i know what you mean. I had the same problem when i started blogging and my mom called me out on some rather revealing personal entries (hard to stay away from 'telling the world" when you feel that way isn't it? now i just bite my hands to keep from typing intimacies to the people out there that really shouldn't know such things) --so anyway, i revised the blog. I themed it and stuck with that theme. though i get a little personal still, my posts are all related to life in new york, new york experiences, thoughts, and i try to veil personal stuff in well-written poetic phrases instead (: if i still find myself writing something too revelatory for the general public (esp friends/fam), i'll post it as private, it gets the writing out which is at least halfway satisfying.

ok, don't know if you wanted to know all that but, well, you know, mom was right.