Why should you care about me?

You shouldn't. I never even read a blog until today. What I found fascinating about it wasn't that I was peering into the life of another living soul who is happens to be the wife of a friend of a husband of a friend of mine who I don't see that regularly but adore. As you can see, it wasn't about catching up on her life because I don't even know her, though I'm sure our paths have crossed at a barbecue sometime. What was fascinating about her blog was the concept that she was writing to an audience -- something that a journal or diary can only ever presume to do. Sure, there's that unknown posterity out there waiting to read the details of your life looking for a shred of heritage. Except I've never read any of my ancestors' writings so it's hard for me to really believe what I'm writing matters. However, the idea that some 12-year-old girl in Louisville might be reading this entry right now makes me feel a little more accountable for the words I put down. She likes me. She wants to know what I'm thinking. She cares about me right now and not 100 years from now. That's what's so appealing about a blog. Reading them, however, holds little charm for me unless I know the person well. And being the wife of a friend of a husband of a friend mine who I don't see that regularly but adore doesn't count. But maybe you're different. I hope so.