Hello Blog Friends, it is I, the constant commenter. The one who never leaves a good post uncommented on. Long rambling comments about me, myself and I, attempts to be light-hearted, funny or even serious and supportive. Words that come from my heart that I hope-to-God Bl0gger won’t just gobble up and refuse to spit back out.
And now, I seem to have hit a dry spell. It is like I am at a party and very engaged in a conversation but for once I don’t want to jump in and have my say. I actually just want to absorb. (This would probably be unnerving at a party. You would probably need to walk away and get another drink, find a friend and say, “Hey, did you meet that Semi-Feral woman? What’s her problem?”) But in the blogosphere, I guess it is simply lurking. It just feels odd. I lurked for a looonnnnggg time. Then I became a constant commenter. To return to lurking, even though I am sure it is temporary, it just feels strange.
You are posting about important stuff – teaching our kids about race, how to handle challenges, what it means to be a perfectionist and how one little comment from someone can set us in a tailspin. Those of you waiting, I ache for you. And I am grateful that you share your feelings. I hope it helps you. I know it helps other PAPs.
And I want to tell you all, “Yes!”, and “Thanks”, and “Word”, and “Be kind to yourself”, and “You inspire me.” But when I put fingers to keyboard all I get is drivel. I erase the drivel and start over. What comes out is blather. I usually try one more time and get trite or worse trying-to-be-funny-and-failing. So I do Bl0gger’s job and simply delete the comment.
On the other hand, Hello New Readers.
Thank you for being here. You move my stat counter and make me happy.
The other day PJ wanted to see what I was doing on my computer. (I am sure she was hoping to see pictures of herself.) I showed her my stat counter and explained it a little. I recently had a large spike (thanks, hotflawedmama) that makes all my other daily stats look extra pathetic. PJ looked at my bar graph and said, “Oh, poor little lines. That is sad.” How? How does she know they are sad to me?
I love my internet world. And these days I even love my real world. Yes, after 12-months it feels like I finally got a real life. But my virtual life is also very real. And I am grateful (pathetic little bar graph or not).