Oh Blog It All

I’ve added a new category because there are those bloggers that say it way better then I ever will.

So first up, this is probably why I won’t be reading James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces - apparently it’s not all that well written to begin with.

And this so eloquently puts into words what I don’t like about Oprah. For the record, I used to be a big fan but now I just watch while I wait for the potatoes to cook.

There’s this theory I have that blog readers are a bit like voyeurs, peering in through the window and observing the blogger’s daily life. With the blogger’s approval of course. Most bloggers even like getting feedback from their readers via comments on their blog. It is the perfect arrangement, but it can get complicated.

You’re out there blogging and commenting away on the blogosphere when one day you e-mail a blogger direct, they send you a reply and then pretty soon you’re exchanging real names and writing about stuff in e-mails that doesn’t get mentioned on the blog. You’re blog friends.

One day your blog friend posts something on their blog that, though lacking in details, sounds rather sad and hopeless. As a friend you want to be supportive and understanding but, voyeur that you are, you’re just dying to know the juicy details. You’re tempted to comment or e-mail but whatever you write just doesn’t sound right. Could it be because your motives are less than sincere?

So you don’t write anything and you pray that the real friends are being supportive and understanding. And if not, then you hope your blog friend will know that she has a virtual shoulder to cry on if she needs it. You’ve always got time to read an e-mail.

Then there was this comment on my old blog by some fellow who said something sort of nice about my blog. So of course I had to go check out his blog because I’m curious like that. Turns out he’s a game ranger which made me think of someone I used to know who really wanted to be a game ranger as well. So I googled that person’s name and spent some time checking out the results.

I don’t know what I was hoping to find, this was someone I knew a long time ago. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about him this week and I now regret googling his name. It was easier to think of him as someone “who once was”, rather then someone “who still is”.

There are some details you just don’t want to know.

Then there’s real life and being back at work and having to deal with my nosy co-workers who all want to know if I’m pregnant yet. To them I have a very simple answer:

It’s none of your fucking business.