Reality of a blogger...

I have this handy little thing called sitemeter on my blog. It tells me how many people visit my site on any given day in addition to how long they spend and from what company. When I had a total of five readers in the beginning, I saw a lot of DC IP addresses and NYC, places where I know my friends have settled. However, thanks to Gawker and you guys passing the word and linking me, I have noticed a very disturbing trend. This blog love has done wonders for my self esteem but may also lead to my professional demise.

Reading through where you people access my blog, I have noticed a slew of advertising agencies. Places where I can potentially interview one day. Readers who work in my industry, you know how incestuous the biz is, and chances are if you figure out that the busty red head across the interview table is me…well, it may create for some awkward moments. However, this is great fodder for me to get out my thoughts for my stand-up act, so I pass at better judgment and it is staying as a part of my life. Also, the freaks who I have met through blogging are a story in of itself. And now I am finally able to capitalize on free shit I am getting from this. So maybe professional self-sabotage isn’t that bad?

Date tomorrow night with, I think, one of the only normal people on Craigslist. Like, scarily normal. NYC special ed teacher scarily normal. And this one swears that he is 6’1. However, as my sister said, “You know Shannon special ed teachers are patient people and you need a lot of patience to deal with you.”

This is going to be a slow week in the blogging world…working on making the site look pretty. AKA begging my friends to help me make it look cool. Work is intense at the moment with deliverables due in every week until I run off to London. And Passover starts on Wed, and being the good Jew I am off to Great Neck for the first night.

Thanks for hanging in there, and I promise I will resume regular posting in the next few weeks. Just deal with these daily tidbits for now. Oh, and in two weeks I beg Oxford for admission and I need to read some articles so I seem smart for my interview.

Much love,
Shannon

PS Hoyt, if you hate my writing so much, why the fuck do you read my shit? Here is an idea, stop being so obviously either a petit man or a psycho ex of mine and just stop reading. To be perfectly honest, I’ll recruit another reader in your place. It’s one thing to comment upon what I write and another to comment upon my use of grammar and shit. I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL WRITER. I have a job and sometimes, my writing suffers as a result of real life.

Although to be perfectly honest, I like the hate comments. It means I am ruffling someone’s feathers somehow. Even if it is just for pesky shit like grammar and syntax. Things my $120K education should have taken care of…