On Thursday we had to talk about our “journals” we’ve been keeping during our course. I’ve been assuming that this blog is my journal, so I went in and talked about it. The teacher asked all sorts of questions about our process, what time of day we write, what struggles and successes we’ve had, what types of things we write about, and how often we’re writing. Her first question, however, was what do you write on : a book, a computer, scraps of paper, etc? When it came to be my turn to share, I said that I write my journal as a blog. I suppose I should have realized this would make the conversation a little different from everyone else in the class, but it never occurred to me. I thought we were just going to share some excerpts from our journal, not talk about our actual journals. I’m the only one with a blog (or I’m the only one who admitted to having one) besides the teacher. Because of this, the conversation got a bit derailed. We discussed things like who reads my blog, what do I talk about, how am I applying what I learn in class, do I do the “try this” exercises on this blog, etc? At the end of the conversation she asked for my website address. Suddenly talking about my journal wasn’t so easy. My immediate thought was “Okay, as soon as I get home I must double-check my posts and make sure I didn’t say anything bad about anyone in class”. I didn’t think so, but I wanted to make sure. You never know what one little rant can turn into.
Anyhow, my biggest concern was that these people were now going to know all about me. Funny how I don’t mind sharing with “cyberspace” (for lack of a better word) because I don’t have to see your reaction to my posts, I don’t have to know what you think of each post, and most of all I don’t have to know what you think of me now that you have read my posts. But the thought of someone in my class reading this stuff, well, its intimate. These people don’t even know I’m married unless they’ve noticed my ring on my finger. They certainly have no idea who August is, or that he’s alive for that matter, and most of all they don’t know that I recently quit my job to be a stay-at-home mom while I pull my finger out of my ass and figure out what I want to be when I grow up. It’s all very, like I said, intimate.
I don’t know if any of them have gone here since Thursday, and to be honest, I’m not sure I want to know. Well, that’s not true. Considering we’re taking a writing class together, I guess I would want to know what they think of my writing. But I’d still feel pretty exposed, naked even. To tell you the truth I’m a little nervous to go into class this Thursday. I’m sure it will be anti-climatic. I’m sure no one will come here, but the point is they can now if they want to.
