On Friday I joined Gigi for Friday Flip-Offs. I had a terrific time flipping off camel toe underwear and plugged toilets. It was my usual kind of post about all things profound and revolutionary in the world according to Sandra.
So imagine my surprise when I checked my comments that evening and found 38. Thirty eight fucken comments! I’m happy if I get anything over four.
I didn’t make much more of it. Chalked it up to karma because I’ve been sticking with Eat Pray Love and figure the universe was praising me in its own special way for not making complete and total fun of Elizabeth Gilbert’s description of the weird vibrating sensation that crawls up her spine as she’s meditating…because really, what is that?…but no, I have said nothing. Sorta.
And instead have been trying to display an acceptance of things which I don’t understand.
I’m doing pretty good I think – so far I haven’t said ‘fucken’ once in this post… well, once. But it was in a positive and enthusiastic context so it doesn’t count.
But on Sunday, after writing another deep and prophetic post, I was rewarded with 27 comments. So I’m like, what the fuck is going on?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not upset. I’m thrilled because really, what is the reason we blog? Validation of course. How much more validation can a person ask for than 27 fucken comments.
Again though, I’m not reading too much into it. Just a bout of good luck. I have purchased a domain name so I’m thinking it has something to do with that.
Then yesterday, as I’m tooling around on Facebook, something appears advising me that I can set up a fan page for my blog. I’m like, “Cool!” People will click on the “like” button. I’ll feel good. My self-worth will hopefully increase to the point where I won’t need to seek validation through lustrous hair and chiseled deltoids anymore. It’s all good.
It’s win-win for everybody. I feel good. I don’t spend so much time in the gym or at the hair salon. I spend more time playing hide-and-go-seek and Clue with my kids… ok, that’s a lie. I would not play hide-and-go-seek with my kids if it was their Make-A-Wish-Foundation last request.
But you get the idea. If mommy’s happy, then it stands to reason that I won’t be a total bitch.
I share these recent developments with my son as we’re going for our walk this evening (yes, I walk with my kid! Don’t seem so surprised! I’m not an ogre, I just hate boardgames). He, child prodigy that he is – or that he should be if he put in half the energy into his schoolwork that he does in designing maps and shit for his video games - makes the link between the new Facebook fan page and the sudden influx of comments.
So we’re walking and I’m giggling, because how terrific is this blogging venture I’ve embarked upon. He’s even more excited than I am. He’s like, “Mom, they’re probably going to make a movie about you. Mother of four, going to university to become a nurse, becomes famous blogger.”
He pauses, then pipes up, “You know what would be really good? If your blogging could pay for your tuition. You could put a Paypal button with a little “donate” sign. And people can give you money. The video reviewer guys do this because they have to pay for their hard drives.”
Now he’s totally getting into this story. He’s even suggesting we come up with a real hardknox life storyline so people will feel sorry for us and donate more.
He’s like, “We could dress up in really ratty clothes, and sit on the curb with hats in our hands, and a sign that says, “We’d rather beg for money than starve” and you can take a picture and post it on your blog. That should earn you maximum revenue.”
I swear he said “maximum revenue.”
So, no, I’m not doing any of that. For one thing, we’re going to Disney World on Friday. Somehow I don’t think anybody is going to buy the whole street urchin look on my kids when they’re wearing Mickey Mouse ears.
Not to mention, it took me two days to configure the goddamn Facebook fan page. It took me three months to get my feed burner working. Actually, I’m not even sure if is working.
So as much as I appreciate my son’s enthusiasm and faith in me, I’m just happy to read the nice comments. Even when there are just four of them.