Thursday, December 4, 2008

If a blogger blogs in the city and no one hears, is she just a crazy bag lady who talks out loud to herself?

You have no idea how much I like getting comments. It's absurd. Out of control almost. I go to bed happy on days that my posts elicit comments. I'm nicer. Sometimes I even cook B dinner.

If I get one comment, I'm happy. My self-importance inflates with every additional comment. If I get more than five on a single post, I'm practically an ego-maniac.

I even like the comments that just want to point out what a horrendous arsehole I am because something I wrote affected you! We're making connections! Can you feel it? Kind of like you peed your pants?

Then I take a little trip over to some of my favorite blogs where I see that people like Jenny get hundreds of comments a day. Hundreds. Can you imagine? And then I need a drink and it doesn't even matter that it's only 10 a.m. And then there's dooce and oh my gah everyone knows dooce. And dooce sometimes gets thousands of comments. Thousands. And then when my eyeballs roll back to the front of my head I typically need another drink and I don't see why drinking before noon is such a problem for you people it's not like I'm pregnant, I'm just at work.

So then I'm all I blog for the joy of creative expression blah blah blah finding my voice blah blah and also blah blah blah blah and then I'm drunk.

And then I get to thinking which is usually bad news for everyone involved. If comments are proof of your engagement with your readers, which is, for many, the ultimate goal, then comments are your readers talking back to you, or rather, engaging you back. Conversing, if you will. So if 100 people read a post, and one person comments, it's like one person in a room of 100 standing up and responding when you talk at them. The more people comment, the noisier the room gets, the bigger the party, the more alcohol served, the more panties I find in the bushes the next morning.

So that means, on days that no one comments, I'm just talking out loud to myself. In my quest for attention creative expression, have I become the crazy bag lady who wanders around the neighborhood talking out loud to herself? And does this position come with free pot? Or is that where my pimp comes in? I assume a pimp will be involved. Unless I'm confusing the bag lady who talks to herself with a prostitute because did I mention I'm drunk? So, about that free pot?



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17 comments:

Talia said...

Bridie, I read your blog daily (when there's a new post)... so you are not just talking out loud to nobody, but you might still be a crazy bag lady..

Jen A. Miller said...

If you're the crazy bag lady in Philly, I'm the crazy bag lady in Jerz...

sawinkler said...

aww. . .your blog is in my RSS and I read it always (as opposed to those other feeds I subscribe to in order to make myself feel good, but who generally get "mark all as read" - I'm looking at you, TED Blog). I'm loyal mainly because your frenetic delivery never fails to crack me up.

So, does reading your blog every day (even though I only "know" you through twitter) and NOT commenting make me the crazy stalker from the chess club who followed you around in college?

This could get ugly. Don't sic your dog and/or fiance on me. But please keep writing.

iconjohn said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
iconjohn said...

Too much time spent (wasted) on Twitter rather than use RSS feed. But hang in there, many more read blog than leave a comment.

Conor said...

FIRST!

pixelrn said...

I'm just doing this so maybe you will wait till later to have your first cocktail.

;)

Falko said...

This article is further evidence of why you should have named your blog, "ConfessionsOfACrazyWhore.com". I guarantee you would get a lot more hits, too.

Avitable said...

I totally wasn't going to leave a comment just on this post so you'd become a crazy bag lady, but then other people commented, so I might as well join the trend.

Caitlin said...

desperation becomes you.

on the other hand, ask and you shall receive.

Bridget said...

I smell a pity comment! Don't mess with the bag lady. And it's too late. I'm already drunk.

Bridget said...

hey nutball. quit talking to yourself. and i believe that drinking before noon is a trait that all bridgets must live with.... solidarity sister. solidarity.

Cecil said...

I read your blog and now I comment on it too!

B. said...

Please don't comment. She is arrogant enough without anyone encouraging her.

P.S. It does look like you are talking to yourself with so many "Bridget" comments on here.

P.P.S. You are pathetic

Phil said...

First!

Sarah Dunning said...

Just letting you know I'm reading the posts and you are not talking to yourself!

tinsenpup said...

I predict that this will result in an influx of inane comments on future posts, like, "Oh wow, cool." and "Hang in there." and "OMG, they're not supposed to turn orange!"

Also, I am impressed that you inspire nasty comments. Surely the fact that people care enough to comment to tell others not to comment has got to count for something!

"Hang in there!"

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