“I have to admit that I haven’t had the courage to read your weblog.”

“Courage?”

“Yes, it feels like I’m snooping into your life when I read it. I know you wouldn’t put it up there if you weren’t ok with people reading it, but it still feels like prying.”

I tried to tell her that it was perfectly ok to read my blog, but I could tell that it did little to ease her feelings. I didn’t know what else to say. I don’t really care if she reads it or not. She’s a great friend and she pretty much hears about all the things in my life without reading my blog. I don’t care, either way.

The idea of prying into someone’s life by reading their weblog is strange to me. I would think that people wouldn’t post things if they were uncomfortable with the world knowing about them. Then again, I’ve known people who have been upset when their spouses found their online journals, as if something like that is private.

It’s a strange feeling to read another person’s journal, but she’s right, it would be even stranger to read the journal of someone you know. To know what they truly think about shared events is a scary thing. None of my friends keep a blog, so I don’t know how it feels to be on the reading end of that sort of thing.

I love to read other people’s online journals. Sometimes, they entertain me far more than fiction. Real life is so messy and random in a way that fiction never is. It can be frustrating, too, because things drag out. Sometimes they never get resolved. Real life is funny that way or not-so-funny as the case may be.

All I can say is, go ahead and read to your heart’s content. You’re not snooping. Snooping is getting on my hard drive, hacking my password and reading my personal journals. Reading my blog is like having a one-sided conversation with me where I do all the talking. Even if you found me by accident, it’s ok. If you like what I have to say, please come back for more. If I didn’t want the world to know it, I wouldn’t write it here for the world to see.