here's the thing

I went through a period of watching a little too much Monk, and now I can't shake this expression. "Here's the thing..." I LOVE it, but it's a little addictive. The biggest problem being that no one knows that there is a reason behind WHY I say "here's the thing" and so it loses its pop culture relevance...

Anyway, HERE'S the thing... I feel really bad (or is it badly? Do I feel badly or bad -- I think it's bad) that I don't write more often.

[NOTE: As I am writing this, there is one of those gnatty things flying around and I am chewing gum... I am afraid of something going terribly wrong.]

I think of writing you all the time. I think of the things I want to write about and the commentaries I want to write about. I try to put a witty spin on little events. I give up, I try to be philosophical. I give up, I don't write.

The blog turned into the audience of the blog. Not that you are a large audience, but because I know YOU are out there and I am thinking of YOU and what you want to know about and read about and think about -- it changes me. It changes what I want to write about.

I wouldn't want you to... Well, I don't know. But, we're all fronting, aren't we? "We all have a face that we hide away forever" and all that. I don't really feel like I can unleash anymore.

And I can't, can I? It's not my private, super secret thoughts anymore. I've given you the web address, I've invited you to come out and read and even make comments, if you will.

Sometimes you comment, sometimes you read.

Here's the thing.

A lot of what I think shouldn't be distributed on the internet, but I lack the balls to stop blogging and put it in private again where it belongs.

Should I let you in on the things I really want to bitch about?

Should I keep a private and a public record of my life? I mean, I'm not really that important.

And frankly, it's not even that these things are so shocking -- unless one can be shocked by mundane-ness??

Maybe it's that I don't want you to know how much I really like to just whine and complain and not get things resolved. Because, actually -- I really do like that. I really, really enjoy complaining. I don't know why. I know this is a great character flaw that has left me virtually friendless in my ripe age of 32 1/2, but there it is.

Anyway, there was the thing. We'll see what happens. I'm definitely in a phase.