I Cilantro Cilantro. I don’t know what this blog is actually about, other than keeping me honest about not blurting out the H-word hundreds of times per day. In a way, it’s a really easy path to get to know me, because this is pretty much who I am, warts and all.
I don’t take myself seriously, which must be blatantly obvious by now to even casual readers. I like to laugh, even if it is at myself. Sometimes, I get woefully down, and I try to be honest about that part of me here, too. I enjoy reading the stories that others have taken the time to post here, every single one of them, both in the body of the blog and in the comments.
Everyone doesn’t have to like me, but there’s more here than a first impression or a quick pass can communicate. That’s likely because I’m wacky, and in no way an assertion that I’m deep.
With that in mind, for those of you who read this blog regularly, there are some key markers that might help you savor it even more. Or, roll your eyes more. Or, gnash your teeth and scream “Why is she persecuting me with ANOTHER blog post about nothing?” If it makes you feel anything, and I mean anything, then I’ve accomplished something.
There are links imbedded in every blog post. Joy, the editor at WordPress, gave me lots of helpful feedback on this blog a couple of months ago, and including more links is something she will avidly suggest to any serious blogger. The links look like this, and when you click them, they will open a new page or a photo. Some of the links are funnier than the writing, particularly in this piece, “Inception’s Dream of the Architect.” In other instances, I include links to more detailed information than I can possibly convey in a few hundred word blog post. So, click the links. Rest assured that I will *never* link to somewhere that you wouldn’t want to go.
Some of my most frequent commenters are awesome bloggers in their own right. It pays to read the comments. On more than one occasion, I’ve had someone contribute a comment that eclipsed my post for the day or took the conversation in a strange but lovely direction. Those are the posts that make my month. Click through their names to see what they may be saying elsewhere on the web. You may find several other people you want to know better.
Unless time gets away from me, I always read and reply to your comments. I reply to them individually, not in groups and batches, because I am always so humbled that anyone would care enough to take the time to read this blog or contribute anything to it. Sometimes, I read them more than once because they’re just so amazing, like Jason Ogden’s comment here or Amber Deutsch’s comment here.
If you’re reading this in any other format, please help me by making your comments on the blog. The comments help carry on the conversation that the post has started. If people can’t see a great comment that you made on Facebook or Twitter, they can’t respond to it on the blog. So many of your comments are witty and amazing, and every one of them deserves to be read by this little community.
I don’t know whether writing every day is making me a better writer, but it is enriching my life by getting to know the people who visit here, and it is, slowly but surely, making me a better person. Your reading, your feedback, your compliments and your concerns all enrich me. Thank you.