Why I swore I'd never blog (meg)

Why have I been so reluctant to add my name to the ranks of those engaged in this august genre?  Do you promise not to judge me if I tell you?  Okay, I'll tell you.  I'm afraid you'll judge me!  Also,  I suspect that the blog moment has passed.  I'm always late to the party: by the time I like a thing the cachet is gone, the glow is dimmed, the bloom is off the cosmo (or the mojito as the case may be).    In fact, one of my friends, when told about this project, indulgently smiled and told me not to worry because people weren't really blogging anymore.  And by that she meant the cool people.   In addition, the thought of putting my most personal and trivial (but hopefully catchy) thoughts out into the I-guess-it's-called-the-blogosphere clashed with the part of me that has always thought the folks who do that are attention whores.   Nature abhors a vacuum; I abhor an attention whore.  Also, who cares anyway?  What about my life could possibly be of interest to anyone else?  Or more disturbingly, do I actually have anything to say? What if I go to the well and find only one or two good ideas there?  Does that mean my life is less than the lives of those who manage to fill up page after page?   And last but not least, do I really want to be some pathetic old woman overusing emoticons and making a fool of myself?  I suppose all those really boil down to one thing:  I don't want to make a fool of myself.  However, because there's no guarantee that I won't become a passive, foolish and pathetic old woman anyway, I've decided it's better to perhaps be a foolish, pathetic old woman who tries new things than one who doesn't.  So thanks Hill for pushing me and fear be damned--here I come!