3/13/2007

Imitation is the highest form of flattery

First things first - thanks for commenting about the music that has meaning for you, lame as some of the choices were. I mean, God Bless the Broken Road MM? Meg, The Carpenters? I'm just joking of course. I have an unabashed love for Beyonce and Justin Timberlake, I can hardly judge another, particularly when it comes to songs which mean something to someone. Oh, and J, whoever you may be, I think I love you.

Since I lack any original thought whatsoever, I've decided to lift a topic from DD's blog. Again. It's a wonder she is still friendly toward me given the amount of times I steal from her. Well, she says nice things to my face (read - via email) anyway. DD recently did a post entitled "Blogging Confessions", and I thought if I did the same thing it would give me the opportunity to say some things I perhaps shouldn't say, but hey, fuck it. I'm all about being honest, so here goes...

1) I am genuinely disappointed when my comment tally is low.

2) I hate that the above is true, as neediness is so much not a part of who I am. Well, not in real life anyway. It looks as if my blog self needs constant validation. What fun for you all.

3) I think it's unfortunate that some people who were with me at the beginning have abandoned the blog because I got pregnant and had a baby.

4) It upset me that I didn't get more congratulatory comments/emails when I had P.

5) Number 4 is the hardest for me to admit because I know the outpouring of well wishes was significant and I'm just an evil, greedy bitch who should be thankful for all the people that still read my self-obsessed ramblings.

6) I don't think it would have killed the ones who jumped ship when I got pregnant to just say congratulations.

7) Blogging is such a part of my life now that I cannot imagine giving it up. I spend a lot of my days wondering how I can incorporate conversations and other prosaic occurances into my posts.

8) During my really rough patches both pre and post-P the support of people who read the blog consoled me more than any advice from non-online friends and family.

9) I don't feel as if I offer the same amount of support to other bloggers as I am given.

10) I wish I knew people in my real life as giving, witty, intelligent and just plain fabulous as you all. I'm not just saying that. I have found a kinship with so many wonderful people through this blog which I know cannot be duplicated in my everyday relationships.

All is full of love, indeed.

21 comments:

Anonymous said...

1,2,10 - Spot on. Sometimes I'll pour my heart out in a post and get no comments, and then I'll post about something as trivial as whether or not people leave the toilet seat lid up or not and people comment by the dozen. Fickle, fickle.

As much as I love my real life friends, and as supportive as they try to be, none of them are going through (or can even imagine) going through fertility treatments of any kind. My online connections have been a lifesaver.

And, if I'm the "J" you may be in love with - right on. My wife isn't the jealous type:)

DD said...

I sooooo love you (even though you won't kick blogger to the curb and move to typepad so you can comment. Yeah, so it's selfish that I would ask you actually pay just so you can comment on typepad. Wha-eva.)

I actually had a couple moments of regret writing that confessional b/c some people thought I was pointing out their flaws. They were *my* flaws.

I really envy someone like Mimi Smartypants who doesn't have a comment section, even though by the time I read her last sentence I'm *dying* to comment. I would never, ever call you "needy". I would call you human.

But most of the time, I call you my lovable, flat-bottomed bitch. Confessions are good for the soul. I think Johnny would approve.

Shannon said...

I can totally relate. I kind of get offended if people don't tell me how cute my baby is all the time. Sorry I don't comment very often, I just stumbled upon your blog awhile back and I guess I didn't know you'd be so high maintenance. :)

I'm kidding of course. Or not. But probably.

Kristi said...

Oh, I can completely relate to #1, 2, 7, 8, 9, and 10 (so basically most of them). ;)

My guess is that when your comment tally is low, you still have plenty of readers, but they're at a loss for words adequate enough to hold court with your witticisms. At least that's what I tell myself when I don't receive many comments. ;)

Anonymous said...

I feel the same way as you on many of those confessions. But maybe I could try posting more, huh?

Major Bedhead said...

Those are good confessions. I feel the same way about a lot of them.

It pisses me off when I pour my heart out and get bubkes in return. It feels like a judgment of what I'm going thru or have to say.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry for not commenting more - I rarely have so far, and that makes me a lurker. But I really enjoy your writing, I am a huge fan of The Smiths, and I am so happy that you had P.

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

I hadn't found you yet, so wasn't reading back then, but I hope you'll forgive me that I didn't comment at that time when I hadn't found you. It's a failing of mine, I know.

A belated congrats on P.

I'm with you on #1, #7 and #9. I wish #2 were true of me, but I'm as whiny, needy and selfish in real life as I am on my blog. As for #3, #4 and #6, I think it's sometimes hard for people to be happy for others in the face of their own pain. #5 - If you can't be selfish on your blog, where can you be selfish? And #8 and #10 are some of the best things about the internets.

Anonymous said...

Okay, it's time to delurk after months of reading your wonderful, sometimes brilliant, often snarky but always honest writing. I was reading when P was born and since I'd never commented before felt so weird commenting suddenly.
But after I had the meanest baby ever conceived this past November, I suddenly, desperately wanted to read what you were writing about your cranky baby. Now that baby O is finally over 3 months old and apparently not in constant pain, she's quite the sweetheart, much like P appears to have become. So, thank you for your honesty about the horrors (and joys) of motherhood, the difficulties of breastfeeding (don't get me started on that, I pumped for 8 weeks but couldn't stand it a minute longer and am now a proud formula feeder) and just plain being real.
I'm so glad P has come around and become a delightful baby. I'm hoping O continues to come around as well. Your writing kept me sane during those long first 8 weeks of her life.
Thank you.

Mollywogger said...

Oh, my dearest dear. You could grow a horn from the middle of your forehead and start using the words "baby dust" and you know I would not forsake you. For, deep down, I would know that you were still the skanky bitch I fell in love with lo those many years ago.

Lut C. said...

All right. 5 hail Ps on your rosary beads, and comment on 10 blogs of your choosing (except your own), and you're absolved.

Not catholic? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Sacrament_of_Confession

Rachel said...

I love your shameless plug for affection! I get very very very few comments on either of my blogs and it doesn't bother me. I guess I just don't care if people are reading or not. Though if they are, they really SHOULD comment more. It's good for your soul.

And I hear you about the Imaginary Internet Friends being better than real friends sometimes, though I do occasionally wish I had more actual people nearby and not all over the frickin' world.

Anonymous said...

I can't even explain how much more support, email and advice I get from strangers in the blogosphere than from any of my family members.

You should move to wordpress, maybe.

electriclady said...

I basically relate to every single one of your confessions. And like J said, I don't get why sometimes I'll pour my heart out and get no comments and then I'll write some throwaway post about monkeys or blow jobs and get dozens.

Also, I heart you, Pru.

charlie's mom said...

Love the confessions. I relate to many of them...PS I haven't been around because I have no time. Where are you finding this time to write?

Anonymous said...

Just so you know, I check your blog every day (when practical) to look for updates on you and Pru. I am also originally from the middle of nowhere PA (although I suspect that you're from the "pop" side of nowhere, whereas I'm from the "soda" side ;)

Anonymous said...

I spend entirely too much time second-guessing myself and telling myself my comments are dorky and wouldn't be welcome on such a cool, witty blog, so I often shut up when, really, I shouldn't. I mean, dorky's quite endearing these days, isn't it?

I found you AFTER the birth of P, so haven't abandoned you on that account (do people really do that? After all you've gone through? Gah).

Jennifer said...

I love reading about you & P. I rarely comment b/c I read on my cell phone and these tiny buttons are annoying!

Anonymous said...

I admit I have the same 'comment needs' as you. It's shameful really and I wish I could find a support group. Perhaps we could start one and then we could get a ton of comments that would satisfy our needs. But would we really be satisfied? Or would it turn us into comment-a-holics that no amount of comments would satisfy?

Stupid Blogger comment section is going to send me to the looney-bin. I second bri's suggestion about the move to Wordpress.

Bittermama said...

Lindy, here (changed my tag for my new blog in an effort to be a bit more anonymous)

I'm here! I'm here! I really have been reading faithfully. I'm just so lazy that hitting the comment button and typing and, you know, doing much more than scrolling down the page to read a post is sometimes too much for me. I love your blog, Pru!

And I think I agree with all of the items on the list.... but I'm too lazy to go back through it and make sure.

And hey, as long as we're making blogging confessions, I've put up a new blog. But so far I'm feeling like it's just not very good. Maybe because I'm so damned lazy?