I’m a Freak

I’ve been having a bit of blog freak out. A few things caused this. As you might suspect, I shall share them with you now. That’s how these things work.

A friend told me last week that I should check my blog stats. I’ve never looked at them before. I mean, there’s a counter here on this page, but I’ve never looked to see how many visitors I have in a day or how long they’re here or whatever. I’ve always just paid attention to the number of comments and didn’t care much about overall stats.

So I looked. And then I fainted. (And of course hit my head on the desk when I did. That goes without saying.)

Uhhhhhh, who are you people?

Turns out I’m getting hundreds of readers every day. That totally blew my mind. (Or it could have been the blow to the head.)

I get lots of hits from Google, generally strange searches like “naked panties and needles” and “drunk party” and even, I’m not making this up, “kooky knitting patterns for drunks”. But those are just lil hits, not real visits from readers.

The number of people who actually stay here long enough to read something numbers in the hundreds every day. This past Friday, I had 1,232 real readers. I had close to 2,000 hits.

Again I ask, who are you people? Why are you spying on me?

Because that’s what it felt like when I saw that. I know it sounds crazy to say it, but I just don’t think about other people really reading my blog. I figure I’ve got a few nutty readers who comment  and hang out with me (Shout Out to my crazy commenter peeps! yo.) and that’s always been just fine with me.  Color me naive.

A blog is like a window. I choose how wide to open that window, and how much clothing to take  off when the curtains are open. But I had no idea I had so many peeping Toms.

Then, as if I weren’t freaked out enough, I had another shock. Yesterday a mom at co-op came up to me and said “I’ve been reading your blog.”

A million things went through my head in a millisecond. This mom is a very sweet, very nice person. She’s got infinite patience, a calmness about her that just reeks of balance and poise, and I’ve never seen her trip. She would never curse while hopping around her bedroom trying to put on her PJs with one hand and hold her vodka drink with the other. (Not that I would either, I’m just sayin’.) Her kids are some of the nicest kids ever. 

I thought of all the times I’ve shown my ass here, just letting it all  hang out and flap in the breeze, warts and all.

And I had a little private panic attack for that millisecond. I thought “Oh man this dear, sweet woman is going to keep her kids away from me and tell everyone I’m a freak and she knows I drink and omg what must she think- my cover is blown” and then all  the blood rushed to my toes and away from my brain. (And I liked it.)

Like I said, that all lasted a millisecond.

So I came home and had a little talk with myself in the mirror. Do you do that? I do. I looked at myself and I said “Self, tell me why you’re freaked out.” And I told myself that I was freaked out because (here’s the Oprah moment) I’m not perfect.

I know, right?

But really, that’s what it boils down to. I’m freaking out because I’m honest here, and so everyone knows I’m catty, foul mouthed, judgemental, a sot and more than a bit crazy.

There are many things I don’t talk about here. I mean besides religion and politics. I’m a very complex woman. (Stop snorting, Karen.) But this blog is a creative outlet for me, and I enjoy it. I don’t feel pressured to share my views about God, Bush, or greenhouse gasses. I don’t want to post about fashion, homeschooling or foreign affairs. It’s just a place for me to have some fun, talk about knitting, and show my ass on occassion.

And I guess there’s nothing wrong with that.

While I am indeed foul mouthed, crazy and a bit of a lush, I’m also a great mom, a kick-ass friend and generally a good person. Contrary to what some might think, you can be all of those at the same time.

And so for now I’ll keep this window open, and share parts of me with you. (But not the jiggly bits. Those stay trussed up and covered, spank you very much.)

I came this close to deleting my blog last night. My finger was on the button to do it. But then I got distracted by something shiny and forgot what I was doing. Good thing, because I would have regretted it this morning.