The Zaftig Chronicles

Because blogging lets me be free. I get to explore the exhibitionist in me without the consequences. I get to tell my side of things, whether someone is listening or not.  Someone once said that blogging is akin to leaving your open diary on the kitchen table. I partially agree. But I think blogging uses a different language, a language that is more freeing, while writing in a diary is more formulaic -- we jot down what we did today or what occurred; it's more like a personal log book. But blogging is more introspective -- at least personal blogs are. It's not good enough to just say what we did, because the format of a blog draws out the impetus behind our actions, almost like how a therapist can extract the hidden depths we never knew we had. And that's why I think blogging is more like a therapy session amongst our peers. People reach out to us; they empathize, sympathize, and criticize our situations, and we take from it what we will. So I think blogging is more akin to...

I know people read this blog, but for what reason? I've disabled comments because I don't like what it invites, so there is no open dialogue to engage in. Are you all reading to get a good laugh? I like to think not. But there is so much negativity spewing from keyboards across the world, that it's almost enough to make a girl hate all of this shit. So why do I bother? Brooding. Just brooding.

I'm afraid of The Zaftig Chronicles, for it has made me a new woman. I have tapped into a part of me that wants to expose the fondest of memories and the most tragic ones as well. This blog entices me to be free. This morning's post is something I thought I'd never share, but I felt compelled to get it out of my head. It wasn't a post to offer insight into my life, but a release for me. And I want to do more. Being candid can be addictive . Stephanie Klein has discovered this first-hand. And now I understand the power and healing behind being dangerously candid.

Within a day of creating The Zaftig Chronicles, I've already rode the coattail of celeblogger Stephanie Klein to a mention in the Columbia Journalism Review. Of course, I'm not in New York, but I think the mention is just. Chicago has all the glitz and glamor, but without the $15 dollar beers and exorbitant rents. A single woman in the city is a single woman in the city, whether that city is on the East coast, West coast, or in the middle.

So...in honor of the wondrous Stephanie Klein and her lovely Greek Tragedy blog , I have decided to embark on my own blog journey -- replete with blurred exhibitionism, laughter, cravings, and general angst. So what's it like to be a single zaftig woman in a big city? Well, stay tuned to find out. Some days are prettier than others.