I have commented before that I am quite self conscious of this little blog, amongst people in the 'real' world (as opposed to people in the blog world). From friends, acquaintances, colleagues I keep it a very well guarded secret, divulging it only to those I trust. I fear judgment of the life I present here but also I have found that it's near on impossible to explain a blog to people who don't get it. I have many friends who don't do facebook. My Mum fears online shopping (identity fraud being her worst nightmare). Friends who would rather speak on the phone (how old school) than text or email. And don't get me started on Twitter. Many, many people just can not see the point of Twitter. Why does the world need to know what you had for breakfast? But how pervasive is Twitter? I learned more reading Twitter in London Fashion Week than I did reading a years' worth of Vogue editions.
And so back blogging. The theme of blog self consciousness is rife in this cyber world we inhabit. I have read some fantastic analysis of what it means to blog by some erudite writers who do. It makes absolute sense to me. But still when presenting it to those who are altogether not on that wavelength, it can be a struggle.
This week my husband has been in San Francisco on business accompanying an iconic British fashion brand, discussing some very clever technology stuff. Here is my confession: I think technology is cool. I am not even that ahead of the curve, even though I work for a household-name technology company. I am all for embracing technology. I figure, how on earth am I going to understand what my kids are going to go through in their lives unless I join in with technological advances?
But there are still many...including my friends...who just don't get it. I find myself thinking: isn't this the same as the Luddites not getting machinery in the Industrial Revolution?
OK, so maybe I have a slightly bizarre online persona - 339 blogger followers - welcome to number 340; join the party! OK, so maybe I maintain friendships with blog people I have never and may never meet in person. OK, so maybe I spill the beans of my inner thoughts to complete strangers across the globe. Does that make this pursuit have any less validity than writing a diary in a leather-bound book? :-)
And so to my answers (it's all me, me, me!)
One very bad experience with Strawberry Daquiris (multiplied by many) has left me scarred. Therefore Bloody Mary.
Hmm I wish I was a staunch secret-keeper but I do find it hard. Of course I can if I have to.
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| via the bottom of the ironing basket |
