|This isn't actually true. I think about quitting all the time.|
Listen up, ClustrMaps. I've been blogging for over seven years. I've used widgets, whatnots, and whoop-dee-doos. I have used your widget, Revolver Maps, and page counts. I don't know the hell your problem is, but sir, your dots are off. Way off. Okay, sure, yes, admittedly I am in a borderline OCD habit of spamming my visitors. I love to know who's stopped by, because in this day and age, most folks do not have time to comment. No harm, no foul. I don't either. I read more blogs than I can possibly comment on. But damn, when I wake up at 3am with insomnia, and use my Kindle as my personal nightlight, falling back to sleep with the comforting dots is all I have sometimes. What kills me is that I will see a Dot, not just a dot, and then in a few hours it'll be gone! ClustrMaps, come on now! Don't do that to me! I see that many visitors have stopped by: intelligent hackers from India, curious spammers from Viet Nam, and oh yes, now I have to look up where the Faroe Islands* are: like a virtual geography lesson! But there are those dots that mean everything to me. Dots from the States, dots from the Southern Hemisphere, and dots from Great Britain. Those dots represent visits from actual, real friends. Friends I may or may not ever meet in real life, but I consider them friends nonetheless. Recently on Facebook a woman I only know through mutual friends in that social media stew posted that she was eliminating many from her Facebook roster. I made the cut. I sent her a message saying I hope that I would, albeit we had never met in person, because from her Facebook persona, she is someone I want to continue 'knowing.' Her posts and shares are insightful, funny, sardonic, and real. And yet, I have never met her. Can any of us judge what is real, then? And does it matter?
Currently I'm crafting a thesis of sorts about the reconciliation between my two writing lives. This thesis is not going to be presented to a Board; this is just for me and one other small cadre of professionals. I worked on it more last night, even though it was Monday, and valor capping on five alts was an impossible goal. In fact, most game goals are out of reach for me. If I focus on one character, say Mataoka, and try to get all the thingamabobs the Black Prince, sure enough they will not drop. I have seven so far. I think I need twenty. All I can think of now is that scene in Holy Grail where the Knights Who Say Ni are never satisfied with the shrubbery. My growing resentment over not having my own time (at work) to use a computer for anything but boring e-mails and data collection is bubbling up my own creative apocalypse. My writing ideas have invaded my dreams. Last night I dreamt an entire short story about Madame Eva, and I had a great dream where my great-grandmother's house was haunted. I mean, how cool is that?! Who wouldn't want to wake up immediately and start writing about it?!
You may be interested to know that my little thesis mentions this blog, and having over 100,000 page hits. Sure, sure - thanks Russian and Asian hackers! Rock on! I am honest about these dots, though. Not all dots are created equal. For those dots who are Dots, and true friends, be patient with me. In a twenty-four hour day, I do need to sleep at least six of those. I do have about nine hours of work, and zero chance of writing, watching Youtube videos on game strategies, or anything but taking five minutes here and there to sneak reading other blogs, and that's usually on my i-phone. In my car, okay! My CAR - not the toilet. Not most of the time anyway.
So my achievements -- I'll get to them. The thingamabobs: Prince, keep your pants on. (Please. No one wants to see dragon bits.) Reader/blogger friends: thank you. Thank you for everything.
Now I'm off to go find a shrubbery.
*Well I'll be damned. The Faroe Islands look like an awesome place to go.