is me is really me

I haven’t been posting much as of late; a combination of many things including but not limited to;

• new career is kicking my ass (and it’s a fat ass at that) and I don’t have the same free time or mental wherewithal to write as I wish to
• it’s the homestretch for kidlet #1 and guiding her through the college application process, the last of the standardized tests and senior requirements feels like a full-time job in of it self
• there are so many more talented writers out there so I’ve been reading, lurking and commenting here and there

However, one of my favorite bloggers, Ann St. Vincent, recently posted a clarification post after a particularly difficult day in which she felt she needed to apologize for her thoughts and feelings and posting honestly, as honest as one chooses to be, on her own blog. She also went on to state that she isn’t infallible. Well duh, that’s just one of the reason’s I really enjoy her writing. She is who she is, I have never felt judged by her, even when we have disagreed or have a difference of opinion.

I find her unabashed intelligence and keen sense of humor compelling but it’s her human frailty and her willingness to post real and raw moments and feelings that draws me back. In one moment, she is very clear that she wants to continue on her path of sexual discovery and freedom whilst not being willing to share her lover. That is real people. She doesn’t apologize for wanting it all as much as she questions herself on her own motivations and desires.

She expressed sadness that she may have lost some followers due to her words not ringing true or perhaps because she offended them. Unintentionally. I admire her for caring, for wanting to provide clarity even if she doesn’t need to. So when I ran across this lost word, latibule, earlier this evening. I thought of her and her safe place. Her writings, her online journal, which she has chosen to share with us.

Thank you Ann, your latibule is just that. Yours.