Blogs call narcissists
to write what they know and love
Who is the blogger?
Writer, lover, comic, cook
All crave to be heard
Comments feed the blog
Readers who comment treasured
Friends not seen but loved
Before I explain, if you’re going to give me a free speech lecture or simply say “everyone is entitled to their opinion” I’d like to politely ask you to leave. Just click that little mouse of yours and find some other blogger to badger. I’ve heard all those speeches before. In my own head.
Click. Click. Click.
Is that everyone?
I shall begin.
I have a comment that has been sitting in my pending folder for over a month now. It’s been sitting there because I have no idea what to do with it.
It isn’t obscene.
It isn’t spam.
It isn’t self-promoting.
It is littered with grammatical and spelling errors.
It is mildly illiterate.
It is about an inflammatory subject that I wrote about a while ago.
And it is mildly controversial and something I might be tempted to waste my breath, I mean fingers, and type a response. To deaf ears (blind eyes?), presumably.
I haven’t “approved” it because I don’t want to invite ridicule. I then pat myself on the back for being so sensitive. But I know it’s really because I disagree with the comment and can’t believe there are such idiotic people out there. (How’s that for sensitivity?)
Which leads me to my question for all my favorite readers/bloggers out there.
How do YOU filter comments on your blog? Do you let any and everything sneak through? Do you only delete profanity/spam/self-promotion? Or do you kill anything that doesn’t agree with your point of view? Do you correct the misspellings and grammatical errors?
This inquiring mind wants to know.
“Well, you know what they say: if you don’t have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit by me!”
One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies. And it’s my favorite for a reason.
Because it’s true for most of us, although, we’d never admit it.
I enjoy a good tidbit of gossip. I try not to spread any but I admit, my ears perk up when it’s being shared. Some people have a higher tolerance for it than others. I’d like to think that I know when to stop, know when to keep my thoughts to myself.
But I’m no saint. And there are not many on this Earth that can prove that they are. Saints, that is.
When friends, family or acquaintances are going through especially tough times, I zip it. Major and embarrassing faux pas? Ignored. I’ve been there. I’ve done that. I wouldn’t want my financial or relationship woes savored for entertainment.
But the “What? Not again?” annoyances that pop up? I’ve been known to share with my closest and dearest friends. I’m not proud of it. But apparently, I’m not too ashamed to stop. I call it “unloading” in order to assuage my guilt.
I reign it in when things get ugly or mean.
“There’s never an excuse to be mean” – wise words from my brother-in-law.
Words I try to live by.
Especially in the comment section of a blog post.
A mildly controversial topic that I blogged about months ago, suddenly became popular in the blogosphere. And one individual, who shall remain nameless, had much to say about my take and those of my readers. The comments to my other commenters were just plain mean. Not worth repeating. Not constructive. And frankly, not even argumentative. (Which I may have allowed, if only to encourage discussion.)
And then, after copying and pasting an admittedly, ill-constructed paragraph of mine, little Ms. Snark said:
“Oooooo. Well said. Kudos to you, Oh Great Writer.”
I enjoy a lively discussion. I am not of the ilk who feels if I don’t agree with you, I shouldn’t comment. I like differing opinions. Sharing a point of view that is different from my own is welcomed here. It’s one of the many ways that I grow as a human being.
But gratuitous snark and sarcasm?
That is not welcome here.
Or, anywhere for that matter.
(Yes. The Blogosphere police chief has spoken. Now, run along and comment somewhere else. Constructively. Kindly. And with no malice. You’ll feel much better about yourself afterwards. Trust me.)
Apparently, I’ve cured head lice.
On November 2nd I wrote about head lice here. And then, mysteriously, on November 19th, 17 days later, my blog stats took a gigantic leap and readership soared. Through the roof. So, I wrote about it here.
I’ve been riding that gravy train of popularity ever since. That is, until today. As suddenly as my readership soared, it plummeted.
Deep nose dive.
Everyone must have taken my advice, cured their head lice problem with simple tea tree oil solutions, thus wiping out head lice across the globe.
And I’m lonely.
Don’t get me wrong. I knew my popularity was fake. But that doesn’t stop a girl from pretending there are lots and lots of people out there reading her stuff, educating themselves and coming back for more.
But now, my stats are back where they used to be. And I want to know.
Was it something I said?
WordPress has this handy little year end feature where they put together stats on your blog. There was a little button so that I could share it with all of you but I chose not to. Then you’d all see how few truly read me and I didn’t want you few who do to feel like total losers. Just trying to save your tender hearts, that’s all.
WordPress told me that I should write more about head lice, burkas and Toddler’s & Tiaras. That’s what my readers want, apparently. But I can’t. Head lice makes me squeamish. Burkas make me lose readers because they think I’m a racist. And Toddler’s & Tiaras doesn’t deserve any more publicity. (So erase those last few sentences from your memory banks. These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.)
I have readers (all 44 of you) from six of the seven continents. Most from the US and Canada. That means that 21 of you are from North America. Nine of you are from Europe. Six from Australia. Five from South America. Two from Asia and one from Africa. (This is just a guess. An uneducated one. And 44? Just the number of hits I had at the moment I began writing this post. But I like playing with numbers. And pretending, apparently.)
Here’s where it really gets interesting….
One of my greatest referral sites, besides Google and WordPress, is the sweet Bibliomama from up yonder. (That means Canada.) So, thank you, Bibliomama. I have a feeling it’s because Blogspot has that handy dandy feature that you employ on your sidebar. You know, the one that advertises the latests blog post titles of the writers in your Blogroll. Thank you for using this feature. I love it, myself. And I’m grateful that I have an honored spot in your Blogroll.
I, like any other blogger, like comments. Here on my blog, that is. Finding the time to read everyone out there that I want to read and then comment – that’s another story. But comments here? Welcomed and encouraged.
My top 5 commenters are:
1. Big Little Wolf at Daily Plate of Crazy
2. Dawn King from Dawn King
3. Faemom from Faemom
4. Katy Beth from My Odd Family
and last, but certainly not least….
5. TKW from The Kitchen Witch
You ladies are the bomb! Thank you, a million thank yous, for popping in here to see what I’ve written and then commenting even though I seem to have a hard time getting around to that myself. It’s nice to know I’m not writing to wind. I promise to make the effort to do a better job of commenting. I promise.
My little WordPress annual report was entertaining. And it reminded me to thank the readers who read me, which I should do more often.
Thank you! All of you!
And to the readers who are no longer coming here because, through my humble blog, I’ve cured your head lice situation?
(To celebrate her high school graduation, my daughter and I are on a little hiatus together. A mother/daughter hiatus. I will be posting some of my favorite posts in the interim. Enjoy!)
I wish I had all the time to read every blog I want to read, with plenty of time to make deep, thoughtful comments and the time to write amazing posts of my own.
I wish I hadn’t have spent $75 on a massage that was just so-so from someone fresh out of massage school. I thought I was saving money. But it was so not worth it.
I wish I didn’t use the word “so” so much. (Whoops! I did it again, Brittany!)
I wish I could turn back time and snuggle my babies when they were babies again.
I wish the mess in the Gulf had never happened and I worry about all the wildlife choking on the filth.
I wish more than a fifth of all Americans, such as, COULD locate, like Iraq and South Africa such as everywhere like, the United States on a map. (I’m sorry to make fun of her again. But it is still funny.)
I wish whenever I was stuck for a blog post idea the writing prompts I look up actually inspired me.
I wish I had a pa-pa-pa-poker face.
I wish all the food that tastes so good had the negative calories of celery.
I wish Diet Coke didn’t taste like….Diet.
I wish every blogger out there (especially the ones who read my humble blog) lots of traffic and lots of fabulous post ideas.
I wish I could win the lottery. Of course, I suppose I should at least play the lottery first. (Which I’ve never done. Ever. Can you believe it?)
I wish I knew what my writing gift was. I wish I could decide what I do best and run with it.
I wish everyone out there a happy, happy Memorial Day. I wish everyone protecting our freedom and the freedom of others a safe arrival home. And if you’re missing someone who has died I wish you peace in your heart.
When I first started this business of blogging I was enamoured with the blogroll. My blogroll. Other blogrolls. You could say I became blogroll obsessed.
If I enjoyed another writer, I’d scan their blogroll to see who they thought was interesting. Sometimes I’d like their recommendations. Sometimes I wouldn’t. Sometimes their blogroll was full. Other times there were just a few destinations listed. And sometimes, a blogroll was nowhere to be found.
I’ve come to the following (inaccurate, I’m sure) conclusions…..
1. If the blogroll is chock full I’ve either come across a writer who clearly has so much more reading time on their hards - I could never compete. OR it’s full because they’re just a girl (or guy) who can’t say no and lists every single person that lists them on their blog.
2. If it’s a trim blogroll, I’ve discovered a writer who is a) discriminatory – in a good way. OR b) incredibly lazy. (Oops. I think I’ve just discovered my category. One guess, people and I’ll give you a hint. It isn’t a.)
3. Those without a blogroll? I have no clue. But I do know that when I can’t find a blogroll listed on a writer’s blog that I enjoy? I’m disappointed. I like to see who they are reading.
When I first began blogging, I admit to having a touch of blogroll diarrhea. I added every single blogger that: amused me, touched me, interested me, encouraged me, challenged me. If they added me to their blogroll, I felt obligated to add them to mine. If I wanted to be on their blogroll and wasn’t, I added them to mine and oh-so-gushingly told them so in an email (hint, hint intended.) Yes. I even grossed myself out. That phase was, thank-you-God, short-lived.
When I came to my senses, I realized that I appreciated other blogrolls that seemed to have truly similar quality or content or inspiration. I trimmed mine down to the nubs.
Then, life hit me full force. I’ve neglected my blogroll, as well as my blog. And I’ve neglected many of you. Not by choice. By necessity. (I’m treading water here, people and the waters seem to be getting deeper and murkier.)
So my blogroll remains very trim. Very, very trim. I can’t remember the last time I added someone. Although I have trimmed a few. Abandoned blogs, mostly.
In my blogroll-obsessed days, I kept a list of bloggers who had me on their blogrolls. I was/am touched, of course, that someone deems me blogroll worthy. I continue to keep the list – as incomplete as it is – so I can check in and read and comment – especially if I haven’t seen you in a while.
I was doing this exercise, fairly recently, because I missed Blog World but didn’t have anything I wanted to share on my own blog. I started visiting my list – checking in and catching up with you all. And I noticed, a few of you have dropped me from your blogrolls. (And by you, I don’t mean you, because after all, if you’re here and you deem me blogroll worthy – I’m probably already there. I mean the yous that have dropped me. And by yous, I don’t mean youse – that’s a part of the Northern US vernacular that I just don’t get.)
I’ve been dumped.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter to me. It does. Especially one in particular. So I wrote this one in particular and I haven’t heard back.
I guess it was something I said. (See? I know some of you don’t believe me, but I do, indeed, tick people off with what I write here. And I’m wallowing in such crap now in my real life that I just want to say – Go buy a thicker skin, people! Life is too freakin’ short to worry about the inconsequential opinions I dish out.)
My blogroll is trim because I’m blog-lazy and my life is full. I should add a few of you and I’ve been meaning to get to my blog-keeping chores but instead, I keep adding more bricks to that road to hell….unintentionally, of course.
To any of you who feel you should be on my blogroll, applications will be accepted on Tuesdays from 12:00pm-12:01pm. Forms should be submitted in triplicate, handwritten in blue ink and delivered by carrier pigeon.
My blogroll is a work in progress. Some days I work on it and most days I forget it’s there.
If you want to be seen on my blog? I’ve found that particularly witty comments garner the most hits.
My regular commenters.
My dear, sweet, intelligent, kind, feisty, patient, thoughtful, supportive, commenters. If you’ve commented here once, twice or many times more.
If you’ve been thought-provoking or just plain hilarious.
Irreverence (as long as it isn’t malicious and it makes me laugh) is welcome here. So is compassion and tact. I appreciate constructive comments – ones that make me pause, re-evaluate and encourage me to be a better person.
What I do not appreciate are anonymous (fake name, fake email address) comments that criticize and name-call. The ones – ok, just one – that hints you know me in real life. If you’re upset with what I’ve written, please call me (you know my number). Email works, too.
But this post isn’t about you.
This post is about the fantastic people who have followed me through thick and thin, pithy and verbose, enthusiastic and depressing, here and not-s0-here.
This post is an enormous, sloppy, wet thank you to my amazing peeps. You comment when I’m happy. You comment when I’m sad. You even comment when I’m not around here much.
I appreciate your candor. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I love your dependability. I love it when you make me laugh.
In a nutshell, I love you. Each and every one.
Thanks for letting me know I’m not posting to the wind.