Creeping Back

I get the feeling that had I told my mother about this blog, even she would have stopped reading it by now. Then again, my mother...

I haven't checked the date of my last post, but I know it was way, way back. I rather feel like a newbie blogger again, writing for nobody but myself, and maybe liking the freedom of that. I've even been toying with the idea of disabling comments, not because I didn't love hearing from people out there but more because... It's hard to explain. Partly, when there's evidence of actual readers, the way I write is unconsciously affected. I find myself performing, trying to please. I also start worrying about blogging, like it's a responsibility or an unspoken commitment. In case you don't know me (or only thought you did), yes, I am exactly that much of a ninny.

But I do like sharing my thoughts with others--that's how blogging is different and infinitely more satisfying than private journaling. So what is this girl to do? Not sure yet, but have decided to get into the swing of succinctity (I realize, but I dislike the sound of "succinctness"--clumsy-sounding) by attempting a series of short posts. And so ends the first.