I have to be honest… I don’t make a point of reading other people’s blogs much, so I don’t know what makes a blog good or bad. And I don’t know exactly why I have decided to create a blog. As of this moment, it’s probably to chronicle my adventures (sailing, boat buying, racing, traveling or whatever) for the benefit of me, myself and perhaps a few close friends and family. I don’t expect other people to read this for the same reason that I don’t read other people’s blogs. Why should anyone care about what I have to say? I’m not a proven expert at anything that I may write about here. I may be more advanced at some of the things I do than the majority of the population on earth, but I am not a top expert in any one particular medium. And even if I was, how are other people supposed to know that? To you, I may just be some other hack with an unsupported opinion based on bullet headlines in the media.
Also, I have never been good at recording my thoughts. I have several notebooks and journals that are mostly blank after attempts to write down those thoughts. I still have one journal somewhere in storage that is covered in a peach fabric with a little pink rose pattern that has about one week of daily entries. The rest of the pages are blank. I think I was about 8 because my handwriting is still big, curvy and deliberate as compared to the scratchy gibberish that even I can hardly read today. I also complain a lot about my younger sister.
There have been several other attempts. One was started during a vacation I took to Costa Rica with my Mom, sister, my Mother’s boyfriend, and another of my Mother’s friends when I was in college. I started out strong for a few days and then complained about my younger sister and my Mom’s boyfriend and I stopped writing shortly thereafter. I’m sensing a theme. Maybe I just didn’t have anything to complain about anymore. 😉 Haha!
I also have a beautifully decorated black leather bound journal that I wanted to use to document and remember the different wines that I’ve tried. I wrote my impressions of about 5 different bottles and likely decided it was too hard to find the journal and write in it once I’d had a glass or two (or four) at a bar or restaurant. That, and the leather bound journal was heavy to bring with, so who can even remember what “notes” you smell or taste in one glass versus a different glass after a night out if you didn’t write it down immediately?
I’ve always admired people who can sit and write as an outlet as I have not yet been able to do it. One of my closest friends when I was living abroad would fill notebooks and notebooks with her thoughts. She said that she found a box full of them from when she was younger at her father’s house. She threw them out to make room. I was appalled. I thought it would make for some great self reflection and memories when she was old, but to her it was just a tool to release her emotions. I think I’m in it for the memories.
Maybe, since this is public site, and the fact that I’m in this for at least as long as I own the domain name and have to pay the hosting service, I’ll be better at putting pen to paper (or in this case, fingers to the keyboard) and keep posting new entries. I also have a support system in place. I.e. a boyfriend who may or may not ask if I’m going to write an entry about whatever it is we have just done, which may just be enough to guilt me into writing because I’m paying for this.
Paula (The Sailor Maiden)
P.S. To all you grammarians; I know my grammar sucks. I know that I use WAY too many commas. Get over it. All you can do is hope that I Google some grammar rules occasionally and that you see an improvement in my writing skills as I practice the art of writing to communicate.