Thursday, May 04, 2006
Boo hoo! Poor little old me...
I'm really sad about blogging today...a stupid, feeling sorry for my stupid-self sad. Am I sad because I read a heart wrenching post elsewhere? No. Did my blog crash with my year's worth of writing and now I want to jump off the Lion's Gate Bridge 'cause I'm that sad? Nope, didn't happen. Do I just want to actually feel like I'm part of the giant blogosphere's conversation once in a while by getting a decent number of readers per day that actually want to leave me comments? Am I sad about that? Well, embarassing as it is to admit, yes. That's why I'm a little sad about blogging today. And yes, that's quite stupid and self serving and blah de blah, blah blah...but seriously, this is what I'm wallowing in today.

Now I know other bloggers have said that they don't blog for their readers, they blog for themselves. I don't know, maybe 100 page views and 60 comments a day will make you wish for more anonimity (sp? I'm not spell checking this...too sad), especially when some of those comments are hateful, spiteful and judgemental. But in my case, if I wanted to strictly write for myself, I'd just buy myself a nice moleskine notebook and start every entry with "Dear Diary". I've never been a journaler (is that a word?) though...not once in my life have I managed to keep a daily, weekly or even once in a while record of who I am. Until now...until this past year when I discovered blogging. Until I discovered that, for free even, I could press a few buttons and interact with people all over the world. That I could learn about their incredible lives and I could, in turn, share a little about me.

I definately think there's something wrong with my pages. I'm overdoing the keywords or underdoing them or some other such blather that I need to play with and bring under control...because I've been getting 25 people here a day for the last nine months. 25! Whole people! And very few comments.

I'm not egotistical enough to think that I'll ever be in the blogging big leagues. I'm no Amalah (but oh to be that pretty and own all those bags...just for a day...mmmm *drool*)...I'm Vicky. I'm 34. I'm a regular mom. I'm a working mom. I'm a soccer-mom. I'm a (fantastic, just ask my don't, he'll lie) wife. I have something to say. I have a humourous story for you (I'm also Canadian and put "u's" in words that most Americans don't recognize as the English language. Take that humour, neighbour, favour, labour!). I have something to whine about (you're going "duh, like today maybe?"). I have something to celebrate. I've been at this for almost a year!

I'm truly sad (in more ways than one...have you witnessed my hair today?)...and I'll probably want to hit delete as soon as I post this, but maybe it needs to be said. Maybe there are others who feel like me. Maybe?

So, anyways....(**awkward silence**)

Here. I'll challenge you. Due to my depressing lack of comments and readership, I've never managed to receive a single, solitary nasty comment or hate mail from anyone. So, I challenge you to take me to task about this post. Call me names, tell me I'm a whiner, ridicule me for being self-absorbed, tell me I should be concentrating on world peace or the state of womens' feet due to wearing high-heeled shoes -- instead of wallowing in comment misery. Use expletives. Don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel...

...just don't make fun of my hair. I know already...

Time until I'm back with my family: 4 hours, 57 minutes

Laundry List: I guess I'll need to wash the tablecloth from my pity party.