As we all know, Andi is a comment whore. Yes, I love comments. Although, perhaps attention whore is more accurate, since I'm also anal-retentive about watching how many hits I've had on my sitemeter. An e-mail I received today (which will be the centerpiece for a feature in the July Estella's Revenge) in addition to my dwindling daily blog hits threw me into several hours of serious contemplation today.
A year ago, when I'd had this blog for approximately 3'ish months, the place was mostly about 1) snark 2) humor 3) ranting.
I was getting around 150 hits a day at the time. Now, I'm getting 60-75...maybe 80-90 on an especially good day (nothing to sneeze at, don't get me wrong...I'm not that big a brat). Now, at first, as I began to see the numbers drop (around the time I started grad school), I was a little miffed and upset. I wondered why people weren't finding me as interesting, etc. I'm really not the self-centered ass I might seem by actually typing this. The way I see it, a writer writes to be read, yes? Writers crave to be read in general...otherwise there would be no books, magazines, or newspapers. So anyway, back to the point, I was a little disappointed in the numbers.
Tonight, as I was thinking, I began to examine what's changed on this blog in the last year, and the changes are nothing short of dramatic. A year ago I was angry. Very angry. Broken in fact. Depressed. Restless. My humor, I can honestly say, was the overflow from what was going on in my life. It felt incredibly good to say "fuck" 12 times per post. I was raging. Trying to figure out what I was supposed to do with myself. I made fun of everything. I used the blog to help work things out, and to reach out to people because I felt like I had no one.
A year later I'm significantly less angry. The blog is a reflection of my temperament now--less volatile and more introspective. For the first time in my life I actually enjoy what I do for a living. I'm in love with my job. I'm happy again. I like who I've turned out to be after all the turbulence of the last few years. I've lost many of the people I love, I've cut out some of the dead weight that was dragging me down. I've found some new people to love as well. I'm happy in my books, and my writing, and my bubble. As hard as I am on myself when it comes to my work, I still enjoy it. I like the challenge--the struggle. I like being break-neck busy until I think I'm going to explode and then having a month off to regroup. I like thinking, and drowning in music, and being with my friends, and fondling my books, and talking about it with you all. I like not being miserable.
It probably isn't as much fun to read. My musings on myself and my personality and my thoughts and my obsessions. They're all very personal and very internal and I don't think they have mass appeal. My blogging now is a bit more like talking to myself...and figuring out why I am the way I am. I'm still angsty, I still fight depression, I still struggle to find some "truth" to make me feel at peace with the world.
But, when it comes right down to it, I'm happy where I am. This blog was a lifeline, and now it's a comfortable place to think and play.
To those who are still reading, I thank you. I enjoy interacting with you, and you've meant something important to me for the last year-and-a-piece. This blog helped me like myself again. It's helped me believe that perhaps the things I think and write might matter to someone somewhere. So, even if the numbers keep falling, I'll keep writing. It's not about numbers anymore. It's not about attention anymore. It's about writing for the sake of writing.
Listening: "I Found a Reason"...Cat Power