Yesterday a woman in Paris called to grant me permission to use photos of her exquisite mansion in my blook. Of course I didn’t actually speak to her. Neil did as he continues to be my conversational surrogate. Poor man. She expressed her delight to be included and professed her admiration for the quality of the pictures. And she promised to have us over when she returns to Semur. I can’t believe that I’m going to get inside that palace she calls her second home.

My point is that I am down to two outstanding photo permissions which means the blook is almost done. When I say done I mean ready for an actual professional editor to help transform it into something safe for public consumption. Which brings me to my other point, the word public. Okay, I know I have this blog that anyone in the world can see but we’re all friends here. A small group of lovely folks who share the comfort provided by the relative anonymity of cyberspace.

Now, as I move closer to having my life splayed out for anyone to read and the inevitable begging people to do so, my panic is beginning to take shape. It’s not about the impending barrage of negative assessments. Not at all. The issue is putting myself out there. There’s the chapter that details my spine of glass dramas and the one where my beloved jiggles my muffin top. I don’t even want to think about the vaginale chapter.

The thing is every word of my blook is 100% true. No embellishment, no fictionalization, just everything exactly as it happened. I think about all the people I’ve worked with before, the parents and kids who saw me as a highly educated health professional, former colleagues, people who hated me in high school. The blook is being released in my hometown and I feel like I’ll be walking into a school dance with the hem of my skirt tucked into the back of my pantyhose … Hang on for a minute, I have to go find a paper bag to breathe into …

Okay, I’m back. My heart rate has come down a little and the dry heaves seem to have stopped. I suppose I can console myself with the knowledge that likely the only people who’ll actually buy the blook are ye crowd. And while that’s bad news for my finances think of the money I’ll save on consulting a therapist to talk me down every time someone I know cracks the cover.