I got all introspective for a while there, about, if you can believe it, how introspective I should be on the blog. I kept a journal from sophomore year of high school through the freshman year of college and wrote down every damn thought that passed through my head. I literally took the notebook around with me and would just open it an write when I didn't have anything else to do (this is before the knitting went everywhere).
So I'm used to writing down most anything that passes through my brain. It was a difficult fall for me. Some people I know were having a really hard time and it was weighing heavy on my heart and making it harder to keep myself depression free. I had a great summer and I went into fall with all kinds of personal goals because I was so energized, and by October I felt like I was just hanging on and getting the work things done, but without any time to spend on myself.
So of course in the middle of that, I start a blog.
I've been ambivalent about blogging for a long time - I never had a livejournal, I'm not on Facebook, etc . . . but it's one of the best ways to join the rich life of the knitting world, I truly believe, and that is and was something that's very important to me. I'm really shy in my daily life and don't have many close friends, especially close friends who live nearby, and so this is my way of reaching out . . . pseudo-anonymously.
The part I've been considering in the last few weeks during this time of blog silence is how anonymous I want to be. And how anonymous my friends and family want to be. You see, if I could be certain that only strangers would read this, I could say anything - we could walk right into the heart of my struggles with depression and compulsive eating and I could lay it right out for you. But oddly, the fact that people I know could find this place makes me clam up a bit. And that doesn't make a bit of sense. After all, one of the reasons I wanted to start a blog was to make friends out of strangers. Those strangers I could tell anything might start as strangers but it's my hope they would end up as friends.
The part of me who used to keep that journal wants to lay it all out. The part of me that is a Southern Lady with No Emotions thinks that pretty much everything is an overshare.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
I haven't really come to any kind of decision either. I think the best knitblogs are the ones that are a little more personal, the ones that invite you into the living room of life, so to speak, and are about more than just knitting. At the same time I think it's important for the knitting content to be high and not get left in the dust for other concerns.
I think it's time to take a chance. Maybe I won't write down every thought that passes through my fool head (that would be an improvement over this post, for example), but I keep telling myself I'm going to be more genuine with people and stop being so polite. I'm looking for a more authentic version of myself - maybe it will help if I pledge to be upfront here as well as face to face.
As you can see from the picture, my hat doesn't say "More than meets the eye" on the inside. My husband suggested changing that to "DIE AUTOBOTS" because his brother quotes that line from the original Transformers movie all the time. It turned out to be a good change because BIL immediately turned the hat inside out and the whole time we were home he wore it with the DIE AUTOBOTS side out. As they would say in the Selfish Knitters group on Ravelry, Definately Knitworthy. 
