Mask

Blog-sistah Jen Lemen caught up with me on ichat last night as I was wrapping up my post. Jen is one of those people who radiates sincere interest, concern and curiousity about others. We haven't met in person (yet) but I know already how she looks when she talks to me: all systems engaged, perched forward with her pretty brown eyes sparkling and intently focussed. I gain at least three inches in height around people like that, don't you?

Because the 'N' on my internal compass stands for Needy, Neurotic, and Narcissistic, there are two groups of people I tend to gravitate toward on the internet. There are the demented and chemically-assisted people with horns on their heads that match up perfectly with the holes in my mine, and with whom a weekend escapade would seem like a swell idea until we got about fifteen miles over the state line. I'm not naming names. But don't be looking for me at TEQUILACONPACNW07. Y'all just go right on ahead.

Then there are the den-moms. These are the people on whose shoulders I instinctively want to lean my head and let them pet my hair. Jen, Leah,Karen are in this category. They have a generousity of spirit. Their blogs don't feel like high school cliques or link brokerages. Their own fabulousity is in no way threatened by anybody else's light shining. They don't act like there's only so much talent, recognition and love to go around. I want them all to be my big sisters.

Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah, Jen. So, Jen in her inquisitive, esteem-boosting way asks me about the rationale behind not posting my face on the blog, beyond the little peek-a-boo shot on the sidebar, which was a big and recent step for me. I told her when I started blogging, I decided to err on the side of caution as far as privacy goes. I figured it would be easier to open the gate later and let the horse? cow? out of the barn than to try and get it back in after it was already out. So, as I have grown more comfortable here, I have eased certain boundaries. Like going from an initial to my full name and posting pictures of my kids (although this one is subject to retraction at any time after hearing Laid Off Dad's and Little Bird's experience).

Jen pointed out that a face can help your audience connect to you. I know this is true. It heightens the sense of connection I feel when I see her or Karen's smiling faces on their own pages. It's also true that other things help attract a following. Like a level of transparency that would send me into a chronic state of nervous breakdown if I were to attempt it for even one day. I figure it's good to hold back, to keep something for oneself.

Also--and there is no way to say this without it sounding corny and lame--I want to be liked for me. I am insecure that way. My husband fell in love with me sight unseen, did I ever tell you that? So I don't worry that he won't love me when I'm old and gray. Because he loved me when he secretly feared my ass was three feet wide.

I'm not saying, never. I could change my mind about it all next week. Especially if I run out of things to blog about this month, which obviously, is right on the verge of happening. Then we will just have a nude portrait a day.

Of course if it is just driving you crazy, there are at least two photos accessible from this site if you dig deeply enough. But just remember how disappointing it was after Kiss took their makeup off. Don't say you weren't warned.

Oh, what the hell. You want the truth? Here it is:


The truth is, I don't know how to work the auto-timer on my camera.


The truth is, I am a secret operative in a mandolin-wielding militia outfit.


The truth is, I was born with four eyes and three nostrils.


The truth is, I was bitten by a radioactive spider.

You can't handle the truth.

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