When I started blogging, I had no idea what I was doing…no idea how to get “followers” or “friends” or whatever you want to call YOU PEOPLE (Personally, I like to call you my crash. And for that to make sense, you’ll have to read this…the relevance is near the bottom with the rhinoceros).

Then I happened upon all those prolific writer people…like dooce. Or the bloggess…or that Pioneer person…whoever you see as Super Awesome in this world of internets.

And I saw what they did that made them so…how shall we say…popular?…and I tried employing some of those tactics.

Now, anyone who knows me (which, in reality, is probably no one except Tim?), knows that “popularity” is this elusive, top secret club that I cannot seem to gain entry in any facet of life. It’s like ohhhh!…I’m almost…there…annnnnd…damn. It evades me again.

Blogging has been like that for me. There was a point where I had thought I had something really good going.

Then I stopped being “funny” and all communal like and visible and commenting every which where…and, the stopping, by the way, was thanks to the old-new-asshole I like to call my daily visit to the seventh circle of snake balls. And I hate snakes. And balls. Random sidebar: I actually tried a nice set of animal testicles – fried, mind you – yesterday at work. This has nothing to do with anything other than they were the most vile tasting things I’ve ever put in my mouth. Ever. And I’m talking over things like boogers, here (and me + boogers = freak out session). And the thought of a snake makes me want to climb the walls and hang from the ceiling fan.

Point is: the job sucks away my life like one of those ghost things in Harry Potter…the dementers or whatever they’re called. You know, the ones where you have to eat chocolate after an attack……(hmmm….chocolate….)

And as to why I ate testicles at work, that’s an entirely different story, but they were on a platter with pigs feet, two tongues, a tiny fried brain and red crickets, among other things.

Anyway, back to why I’m even here.

I started blogging with no plan. I kept blogging trying to get *popular*

Obviously, I’m not exactly shaping up to become this prolific blogger chick who makes bazillions from writing about her ass…or how she (can’t) cook or how her (nonexistent) baby and dog get along by smearing poo on the walls.

HOWEVER.

There is a lining to this whole thing. Silver. Pink. Chartreuse. Whatever color gives you the warm and fuzzies.

And the reason there is a positive spin and not some tirade as to why I’m not good enough or a plea for help to gain more. More readers. More comments. MORE… is because I’m kind of trying to grow up and not be so selfish. I say kind of because I still like to *be* selfish sometimes.

BUT.

I’m also really going to try to do this for me.

I’m standing up for me.

I’m going to express ME.

And whether all of you people (whom I adore, by the way, and read every comment and respond in my head and then forget to respond via booshy… ) like it or not…I’m doing it.

I may lose every single reader…except Tim, who is a religious reader…but I’ll gain so much more.

And I think that’s important.