Holy cannoli, Batman! Only a few more NaBloPoMo days left! Going back to my original post when I asked what people wanted to hear about...

What was your motivation for starting a blog?
Well, I work for a web company and I thought at the time I knew enough coding to figure it out. I didn't actually know anyone who was doing one and I like a challenge. Now that Blogger just announced that they will support tagging for those who use FTP instead of Blogspot (me!) I will have to restrain myself from trying to tag every one of my posts from the past 5 years, like, in the next week.

What motivates you to keep writing?
Pure narcissism! Hee hee. I have a real journal too, that NOBODY reads. Ever. Not even Paul. I need an outlet like that. I also LOVE to get comments; it makes me feel like I'm not putting it all out there in a vaccuum.

Who do you imagine as your audience when you write?
I think they're people like me (ha!) - people who strive for creativity, love, and a little something over and beyond the ordinary in their daily lives. Mamas. Boys in college. Senior citizens. I believe that inside my heart there is a me that's still 5, a me that's still 19, and a me that's 35, my real age. And that will never change, and hopefully someday when I'm 80 and cycling through Florence on my Schwinn with a straw basket on the front full of art supplies, there will be other me's of other ages to join them.

Have you ever felt concerned about certain other people reading what you write?
There are some things I don't talk about online. I decided long ago that I would put up some pics of the kids and paintings, and share about my life, but there are certain stories I don't share online. Mainly because if this one certain person ever comes to this site (and I think he has) I don't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing about himself. It was a long time ago.

More things I don't really talk about: my adolescence. I was an extremely late bloomer. I was tripped, teased, and verbally abused on daily basis at school from about 6th grade till the middle of high school. You show anything out of the cookie cutter mold, and you get stomped on and crushed. When I went on a retreat in 11th grade, I had to do some sharing with one of the worst offenders who was SO surprised I didn't want to sit next to him! I said, "Are you really that clueless, don't you remember the things you did?" and he honestly didn't. I'm not sure if that makes it worse or not. Anyway, he asked for forgiveness, and we talked it out, and I'm truly grateful for it. He passed away in a car accident a few years later. I would not go back to being a teenager for a gazillion dollars. High school had its moments, but college was WAY more fun.

I also do not give my measurements (I get enough crazy hits from people who think anything with 'french' in the title somehow equates with sex), show revealing pictures of myself or anyone in my house, or complain or give inappropriate details about work-related shtuff. I only post stuff I wouldn't mind my mom or mom-in-law reading. I share more about feelings and ideas than anything else. I think it's way more interesting reading than what I had for breakfast today, although that was pretty darn awesome, too.