Possessive ...Hey, that's my air you're breathing
Okay this is an astonishingly stupid quirk that has to go. We're talking a character flaw that I shall now reveal to the world.
I feel possessive of** the blogs I visit.
I'm adding booksellerchick to my list of blogs . . . and as I went swooping by to pick up her address I noticed that suddenly other people are visiting her and I think, hey, wtf? This is my blog. It's like going to my neighborhood Indian restaurant that was sort of quiet and suddenly there's a line waiting to get in.
Except it is nothing like that. I don't have to wait for a table--and the more people who contribute to a discussion the more interesting and livelier it gets. I know this. And the the wtf response doesn't last (well, at least until I notice that my blogger is over posting at other blogs and not at mine).
Never mind that it's not really my blog, that I don't really know the blogger and what the hell difference does it make. Just because I got to read Beth before most of the rest of you? I don't have dibs on her. And even though I've actually met Megan Frampton -- I guess that still doesn't mean anything, huh.
This bizarre bit of nonsense is not on the list of things that keep me up at night. I noticed it for a split second and then moved on. When I did pick up on it, I thought:
1 whoa dude! the internet spawns some sick cookies.
2 how about an entry about this slice of nuttiness.
Trivial? Yes. So?
Tomorrow's entry: dryer lint, better or worse than belly button lint?
Oh hey, speaking of posting sites, if I ever said I would post yours and I haven't, would you remind me to put you on my sideboard? Thank you. Sideboard. Yum, yum. We have a piece of chocolate cake on ours. Uh oh.
update: we had chocolate cake on ours. Back to work.
_______________
**where's my Fowlers? is it possessive of? possessive about? Naw, this entry is not worth digging out the Fowlers and anyway I still have 250 pages of a book to reconstruct. Time to work.
I feel possessive of** the blogs I visit.
I'm adding booksellerchick to my list of blogs . . . and as I went swooping by to pick up her address I noticed that suddenly other people are visiting her and I think, hey, wtf? This is my blog. It's like going to my neighborhood Indian restaurant that was sort of quiet and suddenly there's a line waiting to get in.
Except it is nothing like that. I don't have to wait for a table--and the more people who contribute to a discussion the more interesting and livelier it gets. I know this. And the the wtf response doesn't last (well, at least until I notice that my blogger is over posting at other blogs and not at mine).
Never mind that it's not really my blog, that I don't really know the blogger and what the hell difference does it make. Just because I got to read Beth before most of the rest of you? I don't have dibs on her. And even though I've actually met Megan Frampton -- I guess that still doesn't mean anything, huh.
This bizarre bit of nonsense is not on the list of things that keep me up at night. I noticed it for a split second and then moved on. When I did pick up on it, I thought:
1 whoa dude! the internet spawns some sick cookies.
2 how about an entry about this slice of nuttiness.
Trivial? Yes. So?
Tomorrow's entry: dryer lint, better or worse than belly button lint?
Oh hey, speaking of posting sites, if I ever said I would post yours and I haven't, would you remind me to put you on my sideboard? Thank you. Sideboard. Yum, yum. We have a piece of chocolate cake on ours. Uh oh.
update: we had chocolate cake on ours. Back to work.
_______________
**where's my Fowlers? is it possessive of? possessive about? Naw, this entry is not worth digging out the Fowlers and anyway I still have 250 pages of a book to reconstruct. Time to work.
Um, Kate? Everyone feels all possessive like that of my blog. Especially people who, like you, read me before I allowed linkage. Seriously. I dunno about other blogs, but people really do seem to feel strongly about mine.
ReplyDeleteAnd you know what? People SHOULD feel that way, imo. Because my blog, though linked in a coupla places, is still kinda protected. Go ahead and see how hard it is to find it via search engine. See? It's kinda-hidden on purpose. People gotta work a little to find it. So it's this select group of people who just happened to stumble upon me and stick with me.
So you're part of this elite group, and I feel all territorial lately with the hoardes of Gabaldoners horning in on what I consider to be my (our) territory, because They Are Not One Of Us.
Okay, there. That's just me venting on your blog comment section because it's been in my mind lately, sorry. I love your food scal of literature, btw. And work today is kicking my ass, so I'll just get back to it now.
kisskiss!
And here I am, a Janie-come-lately... sniffle. I want love, too, dammit. And doughnuts, if you have them.
ReplyDeleteI think I know what you're saying. Funny how something as artificial as a blog starts approximating in-person human behavior!
ReplyDeleteI totally have that jelousy thing, which is why I'm so obscenely proud you name-checked me.
ReplyDeleteCandy, it only counts when the blog doesn't have thousands and thousands of replies in the comments section. I'm talking about the blogs that are an intime sort of a restaurant.
ReplyDeleteYou and Sarah? The bitches are more on the lines of Little Tavern On the Green. Upscale and HUGE. Hey speaking of large, I wonder if Sarah's whelped yet. (hoooboy, I hope she never sees this comment.)
Jason, Yeah, isn't it funny how seeing your own name in a stranger's blog can make a little jump? People are plain odd. (I had to erase the Megan in that bit because she's not a stranger. Heck, I can recognise her at forty paces!)
Beth, kisskiss wikiwiki
Oh, plus you've met me, AND YOU PRONOUNCE MY NAME RIGHT. That is huge. And I love your blog.
ReplyDeletethank you, MEEEEEEEeeegan.
ReplyDeleteIt's funny, how SB went from precisely two readers (my best buddy Sooks in Malaysia and that person who wouldn't quit Googling for "Dominican bitches") to, like, several hundred in a very short time.
ReplyDeleteI kinda know what you mean about the possessiveness, only I'm so damn new to the whole blogging scene that I don't have any blogs that I view as mineminemine yet. I do feel that way about bands, though.
I still want love and doughnuts. But who doesn't?
but really katie, you write your blog for me right?
ReplyDeleteI mean in real life. for me right? it's mine?
Kate, I completely understand, especially because I am that way about restaurants (but it was my little corner bar with the yummy drinks, why the hell do I have to wait for a table!?). You are the first person to link me so that definitely allows you to have ownership feelings (not to mention makes me feel all warm and glowy...and no, that's not just because I finally opened a beer). As for the sudden popularity at my blog, I'm not sure it's going to last. I attribute it to having Clay Aiken and the word porn in consecutive entries. It is the way to popularity. Here let's try it. Aiken. Porn. Aiken, Porn. Aiken-porn. Aiken porn...
ReplyDeleteGah, my eyes!!!!
L
P.S. Because I'm really sleep deprived at this moment and I'm not sure this came across: I really, really appreciate it (the link, the love, etc). I just don't express myself well after opening 150 boxes, which should make the entry I'm about to attempt funnnnnnnn...
candy, I'm just honored that you deign to visit. That's a word, right? Deign?
ReplyDeleteanonymous--yes. Of course.
charlie horse--even though my tag was about horse flies you'll let me have a stammtisch? That's very generous. If I'd noticed that was you Very First Tag, I would have done something more ceremonial like "WELCOME to the WORLD of Incessant friendly or flaming chatter!! HOWDY!"
BSC. You are probably incapable of being incapable of expressing yourself. (The curse of the perpetually articulate.)
Kate! I did your meme! And very timely that tag was, too. I was totally stumped for posting material. Thanks!
ReplyDelete