If my name was absent from this site, I could write without a trace. I would say things that took a stance and might hurt feelings. Friends have asked me, "How can you share so much of yourself publically on your weblog?" Easy. I don't. I don't share the honest, shameful, boasting, biting, mean, surprised, or overjoyed bits. I share the neutral take that will keep me out of trouble because I made the fatal mistake of attaching my name to this thing. Isn't that how I do everything? Would you expect any different? Be wry, a little acidic, and stand out of judgment's way.

The irony, of course, is that if my name were not attached, you wouldn't know it was me. I may as well keep a Doogie Howser diary on my hard drive. The whole point of this exercise was to share with my friends, not anonymous lurkers. I'm thinking a phone call would have been a better idea. Or maybe a password would fix it.

I've been angry for the last week. I thought about sitting down and filling a piece of paper titled, "Who are you mad at?" I thought about taking the snow shovel in my hands and flinging it through the car window. I thought about driving really fast on the shoulder lane. I thought about running out the door, slamming it behind me, and not worrying how it would all shake out. And I did.