I still have not discovered why the blog on which I spent two hours on Tuesday didn't post. I actually did the same procedure yesterday I think and it worked.   Frankly though, when it didn't appear, I  felt not only frustration but relief!  That's because after I had supposedly posted it, questions plagued me.  Should I have written so openly about my insecurities and introspection?  What will people think of me?   Is it okay to include some of my comments about my friend? Of course, the friend appeared unnamed--but could someone guess?   What is fair to my friend?  Should I ask permission first, or just hope she never reads that post?   I don't know answers to these questions yet.
    What is the loving and good thing to do in unclear because of difference between people that are generational and cultural, not just personality driven.  My 40 or 50 year old Japanese friends wouldn't like to publish personal stuff nor be written.  "Preserving face" is very important in traditional Japanese culture and in the cultural/family background of my 49 year old Korean American husband.  Midwesterners tend to be like Asians in this aspect. One friend from Iowa, living here, wouldn't even tell me what they paid for a new house, as they
moved out of the Bay Area.  (As I write this I'm careful not to say to much in fears she
might read it, feel exposed and take offence)  In contrast are people like Annie Lamott  (my midwesterner friend doesn't like her books) who in her autobiographic details reeals much unsavory characteristics of her family.  I remember reading Annie's description of her mother and thinking, that's just like my mom!  (something like, "irremediably needy").  Annnie's mom didn't like seeing that in print.
     But reading Annie's words frees me up to feel and say the truth--if not to myself to
others--and that brings good and gladness to my soul.  Her mom pays the cost for my liberation.  So I recognize the good results from revelatory writing, yet still hesitate if there's anyone who knows the person I'm talking about.  That is a heavy shackle.  It means I can't talk freely of my family of origin in my large church, other than in small groups. For a 75 year old woman there knows my parents.  I never see this woman, and my mom has lost even the names of her children because of Alzheimer's.  . .  So is
my self-chosen rule too restrictive?  I don't know.