Part of the reason I don't blog more is because I'm pretty dang self-conscious. (Not so self-conscious that I'm not going to give you a long-winded, self-indulgent explanation, though.) It's honestly not as bad as it was when I was a teenager, but I suppose by other people's standards it's still pretty bad. In real life conversations, I usually worry about saying something incredibly stupid and offending people. Usually I have enough restraint that I just end up boring them. Yes, boring people is a silver lining in my book. I also worry about previously unknown facial ticks, as well as the known ones, like that my mouth does weird things when I'm not concentrating on holding it still or the fact that my eyebrows make me look like I'm sad if I don't concentrate on relaxing them. People shouldn't have to concentrate to relax, should they? But that's life in my head.
Anyway, online it's obviously a lot easier because people don't see my face and I can try and think more about what I want to say. This doesn't lend me much more eloquence, but it does help a bit. Still, I'm a somewhat private person by nature and the verbal diarrhea that is inevitably found in a blog makes me uneasy (even though I do like to narrate the events of my day from time to time).
I'm not sure I have a point with all this. I started with excuses and got distracted by the sound of my own inner voice (which does not currently have an Australian accent, if you were wondering). I do have to say that I wish that more superhero comics had better character development. But I guess they're written more for males.
Oh tangents. Here's a baby to segue into the awkward silence that I always imagine occurs at the end of my posts.
