les keeps out of trouble

I had to grace the Lesblog with another photo of Hattie Brown. Sitting on the couch in my office, looking bleary-eyed after a long day of snoozing. God help me, I'm turning into one of those pathetic souls who share their pet photos with people who could not possibly care less. It's the price you pay for visiting the Lesblog.

I suspect this blogging business will be like the old-fashioned journaling stuff I've done off and on throughout my life. I have countless half-filled notebooks littering my bookshelves, incomplete compendia of my whines and rants, penciled drawings, assignments, or cryptic notes with phone numbers.

If I leave a half-filled blog out there in the blogosphere, I suspect that will leave me with more shelf space for better books. So I can see the upside to doing it this way.

The downside, of course, is the instinct for self-censorship I never felt when scrawling in a notebook. I was surfing the blogs of others and came across Diane who is in her first year of marriage with an apparently long-suffering Todd. Diane's blog is filled with hateful entries about her sister-in-law and poor-me tales of being married (what? she isn't taking romantic baths? who would have thought that married couples don't spend all day in the tub soaking up each other's love by candlelight?). I don't doubt that Diane feels the need to get this kind of crap off her chest. I just doubt the wisdom of putting it out there for everyone and her relatives to read. Or maybe I just admire the powerful passive-aggressive gesture.

Were I to use the Lesblog to make short work of my relationships with the people I love, I'd soon regret it. They have enough reason to find my affections suspect--my anti-social behaviors being what they are. I needn't spell it out for them.