I'm still new to blogging; less than one year so far. My first couple of posts were under my real first name, but I quickly yanked that down and started going by Cookiecrumb.
(If you haven't already figured it out, Cookiecrumb is an entirely inappropriate name for me. I'm nasty, I can't bake, and I rarely eat sweets.)
I don't have anything to hide, but at one point, I was afraid, due to my insignificant past employment and its connection to my meager, but real, interactions with the local food mafia, that I might say something on the blog that I'd regret.
Well, that hasn't happened. So I'm inching, by baby steps, into the light of day.
Jen posted a good topic at Food Blog S'cool on blogging anonymously, and it generated a lively discussion. Then the other day at daily kos, a poll was taken of how many of us blog anonymously (the result was about two-thirds; can't find the original diary at daily kos to link to; sorry). Update: A new diary at daily kos again addresses anonymity on the Web. This topic is hot.
I replied to Jen's post that I'd never deny a fellow blogger the courtesy of knowing my real name, should we ever meet in person. Also, more and more lately, I'm conversing offline with food bloggers, so of course I tell them my real name.
Well. Anyway. Food for thought. I'm sticking with a handle for now. No real good reasons, other than inertia. Oh, here's another reason: What would it possibly tell you, other than what you've already gleaned from reading my blog, to know my real name? Not much.
However, I'm enjoying a rather recent phenomenon. Some of my favorite bloggers have just posted photos of themselves. Some of my other favorites have always run their pictures. I have discovered I really like finding out what my cyber friends look like.
So here's my portrait, with Cranky and the little puppy you already know by his real name, Bean Sprout.
This photo has a cute story. Last month while we were enjoying a brief getaway on the coast, a stranger approached us with a crayon drawing and a camera.
She introduced herself, and she introduced the drawing as "Flat Stanley." Seems her cousin's son's school in Massachusetts was engaged in a project of seeing how far Flat Stanley could travel, and they needed photos as proof. (I assume there were also Flat Melissas and Flat Emilios and Flat Condoleezzas — er, no, scratch that last one. Hey, are those pseudonyms?).
We volunteered. She snapped. Weeks later she e-mailed us the resulting picture. And I liked it.
So here we are.