Addictive.

That's what this blogging is. I'm consumed with checking in with my favorite bloggers to see what's happening in their world (LA [the state], Madrid, "Madstop" and now Toronto) and I marvel at their prolific posts. How/when do they find the time? Are they, like me, using company time and equipment?

Last night I noted that I wanted to explore a number of topics, anonymity being one of them. I created this blog using a pseudonym to protect the guilty (mostly me) and yet - it's a freakin' blog! Out there for the whole world to read. How anonymous is that? Some people use their real names and post real stories about their families, friends and lives. They even invite those very same family and friends to read their blogs and link back to their loved ones pages. That takes guts.

It's so ironic - I do have something to say and I want to get it off my chest but I don't want anyone to know about it and at the same time I'm checking my site counter to see who's been reading my stuff and brazenly challenging/daring the few regular readers I have to leave comments so I know that they've been there and have heard what it is that I want to say.

And that brings me to another topic I wanted to explore - isolation. How is it that I am so alone? I have family and friends, yes, but for whatever reasons I don't feel I can open up to them. I am in a very real sense, isolated. How/why is it that I seemingly value the feedback of strangers than those who are supposedly close to me? Why do I not want my family and friends to know that this is me? When I told Susan I'd starting blogging, she asked for the name of the site and I refused to give it to her. I want to share -- and yet I want to keep it all to myself.

Check out what the sponge had to say about it. For now, 'nuf said.