Is it possible to really get to know someone through a series of tweets, Facebook comments, or blog posts? Can we really get to know people online?

I submit that doing that is no different than meeting people in your neighborhood, at the grocery store, in bars or restaurants … you get the idea. In those places, just like anywhere else, we meet people and get to know enough to know that we’d like to know them better. Or not.

My dear friend Amber Naslund started a discussion over at Brass Tack Thinking, the blog that she shares with Tamsen McMahon (each of whom is a tremendously gifted writer and if you’re not reading their blog, I say,”Tsk! Tsk!”) She felt like few people really knew anything “real” about her, and she was generous enough to open the window of her life wide enough so that others might see her on a more personal level. She also challenged others to write similar posts about themselves and share them.

So, I am. Reluctantly? Maybe. But I’m doing it all the same. On the other side, you might not *really* know me, but you might learn something new or turn over a rock … leaf … (insert metaphor here) that raises an eyebrow. In the end, I hope that you’ll share your stories, too.

Right. Onward.

I’m Mom to the two most wonderful kids in the world. I have a son and a daughter who do more to keep me sane, focused, and together than they could ever possibly know. They are the most important people in my life and I would do anything to make sure they lead happy lives. I’m also divorced, and the kids live with their dad, so my time with them is precious; I dearly wish that I had more of it. They are smart, hysterically funny, affectionate bundles of spectacular goofiness and I stare, each day, at them, wondering how I could have had a hand in creating anything so heart-wrenchingly miraculous.

I spent most of my life being painfully shy. That may be difficult to imagine, but I assure you that it’s true. I was that kid in high school who walked down the halls and stared at her shoes for fear that someone might actually look at her. I was terrified that people wouldn’t like me. It took going away to college and dragging myself out of my shell to get past that. For those of you who know me now, I think it’s safe to say that this is no longer a problem for me.

I don’t like ice cream. Yeah, I know, I know. It’s weird … un-American … Bizarro world kind of stuff. The same applies to peanut butter (though I *do* eat one or two PB&J sandwiches per annum, but they MUST be made with JIF extra-crunchy peanut butter and strawberry preserves — no exceptions). Again, yeah. I know. But hey! More for you.

In spite of my extroverted nature, I’m an immensely private person. I’ll talk to just about anyone, but there are very few whom I hold in confidence. Getting to that place with me takes time, requires real trust, and real understanding (and the ability to make me laugh and show ALL of my teeth). The group of friends whom I hold in this regard is small, but it’s a group of people for whom I would walk through fire.

As an aside, I’m having a really hard time with this post, as I’m trying to decide what to say without saying too much. My cross to bear. Moving on.

I love, Love, LOVE to cook. It’s just about my favorite thing in the world. If ever I’m stressed out or bothered by something, I cook like a demon. If you ever notice that I’ve posted a lot about things I’ve whipped up in my kitchen, it’s probably because I’m toiling with something. It’s how I cope with stress. But MAN! I have turned out some great stuff as a result. (Side note: I also cook just for fun and to share something I love with the people that I love.)

I’m umbilically connected to the water. It’s my hope to find someplace modest, someplace quiet, in which I can listen to waves lapping at the shore and where I can sit, watch fire flies, look on the greenest greens, and hold the hand of a good friend.

I’m scared to death of most animals. Spiders and bugs don’t bother me much, but snakes? Holy HECK. Terrified. The same holds true for anything that’s not domesticated or that I can look at in a zoo (though I DO have a soft spot for squirrels). I’ve had animals trapped in my garage and my attic and in each instance … well, let’s just say that I was more than a little freaked out. Cats & dogs, as long as they’re known to me, will receive my undying affection (I love to snuggle up and wrestle with big ol’ happy dogs), but unknown? Forget it. I’m not that person who picks up strays. I’m a sally.

I love the quiet of morning. The stillness and peace, no matter the weather, just agree with me.

I loathe people who condescend to others. Few things get me more wound up than people who act as though they’re better than other people.

I love football, hockey, baseball, and beer. Yeah. I’m part dude.

I’m 41. Which is NOT OLD (in case you millennials were wondering). But I digress. With age has come wisdom, I think. I used to be concerned with having a big house, with driving a certain sort of car, and with the number of zeroes in my annual salary. I’ve come to realize that those things really don’t matter all that much. We need enough to live on, for sure, but most of the “stuff” that we think we can’t live without? We really can. I have. I’ve had to. And I came out on the other side just fine. Age has taught me about what I really want out of life, about what’s most important to me.

I don’t endeavor to make my work my life. I love what I do. It gives me great joy, and I’m immensely lucky to be able to make my living doing something that I dearly love. “Making a living” is the key phrase here. If you do nothing but work, you’re not living, so what are you making? What’s the point? It’s just work, folks. It’s a means to an end. When I see or hear people talking about waking up at 4AM, wondering about the last time they ate, and working into the wee hours, spending no time doing anything else, like they should be congratulated for such things, it makes me sad. Maybe that’s “judgy” of me, but that’s my stance. These things are not badges of honor. I want to really LIVE my life. I hope that other people want to do the same.

Is it possible to really know the people that you “know” online? Maybe not all of them, but that’s the way life works, right? I met my best friend and greatest champion on Twitter, so I’m a testament to the fact that YES. It is absolutely possible.

And I want to get to know you, too. And what I’ve written here may not be groundbreaking information, but it’s honest. I try to be myself whether it’s in bursts of 140 characters or in posts like this one; I hope that comes through a bit.