I didn’t have just one imaginary friend, I had many. And actually, they weren’t so much imaginary friends as they were an imaginary audience. They like to sit and listen while I narrated my day to them. As I got older, they would follow me around while I went on walks or rode my bike or did household chores. I would explain to them, step-by-step, exactly how to get the mirrorin the bathroomsparkling clean. They hung on my every word because that is a very fascinating subject, and I have a very fascinating way of explaining things.
And now I am going to tell you something that I feel terribly embarrassed and awkward and clunky talking to my friends and family about, and yet somehow feel completely comfortable revealing now to a roomful of strangers . . . I still have imaginary friends.
Although I no longer narrate the minutia of household chores to my imaginary friends (that’s what my daughters are there for!), I do still have this need for an audience. And this, Velveteen readers, this is why I blog.
I started my blog thinking I would just keep it to myself. Just stretch the ol’ writing fingers and let my mommy brain aspire to dwell on something other than how to get cloth diapers so sparkling clean that my bathroom mirrorwould be jealous. But then that itch for an audience started to get to me. I began wandering around from blog to blog, clicking from blogroll to blogroll, mostly because I couldn’t think of much to say on my blog (aside from talking about bathroom mirrors and cloth diaper laundry), so I worked my way around blogdom, listening in on what other people were writing about.
