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Me so sad and lonely, me

And so February ends, and March comes in like a lion. Seems to happen almost every year.

February wasn’t a bad month for this Tohu Bohu, looking at it, with more than a post a day, many of them notes of some substance rather than brief jokes or simple links. 46 comments on the month, which seems to be about the expected level of comments if I don’t have a particularly good guessing game going on. Note to self: Guessing games generate comments! At least with my Gentle Readers.

I mention this because I didn’t write an anniversary post, when my anniversary came around in the middle of the month sometime. Seven years and still going. Whoo.

Oh, and I’m a bit down about the blogging thing, at the moment, because—well, this is probably as pathetic as it can be, but it’s like this: two fellows I grew up with have gotten into this blogging thing in a big way. Now, I have been blogging for more than seven years, now, and (a) it has been at least six years since I decided I didn’t want to be an A-list blogger, and (2) both of those fellows are blogging stuff that they have, you know, degrees in, spend their working lives doing, and are actual experts in. So I shouldn’t be downhearted about the fact that they are both hugely successful at the form. Right? And I am pleased about their success—really, I am. And I truly do not want to become one of those bloggers with tens of thousands of readers, whose every mistake is fodder for widespread abuse and invective, even if the mistakes were not actually mine but someone else’s.

In fact, as this Tohu Bohu has settled into its two or three dozen Gentle Readers, it has become more personal and less political, more musing and less amusing, more what it is and less what it isn’t. There’s no real reason why the A-List would come calling here, or would stay here if it did, or would make me happy if it did stay. And yet…

Really, though, Your Humble Blogger is just being cranky and unhumble. I put a lot of effort into this thing I say, as I walk the streets of Blogtown muttering to myself, seven years, two thousand three hundred and seventy-seven notes, and what have I got to show for it?

This is because crankiness makes it hard to see what it is that a person really does have to show for it. It doesn’t diminish what I actually have, just makes it a bit difficult to see.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,


You do put an amazing amount of work into this, and I'm always impressed. So much so, that sometimes I don't feel "up" to commenting.

I have actually literally both laughed and cried because of things you have written here. And it is, indeed, better than Cats.

At the moment I'm feeling particularly pleased with being a reader of this blog because I've been really enjoying the Richard III stuff (and hope for more) but I always find pleasure in reading what you have to offer.

Yup, I enjoy what you write too, and I'm so glad you have an attention span significantly longer than 140 characters. :)

I tell you what: I'll stop talking to you at home so I'll have something to write here. Better?
your wife

No, m'dear, that's not what I want at all.

And y'all are very sweet. The thing is that, although your various encomia are always more than welcome, it's not that I think I am lousy at this blogging business. I actually fancy myself pretty good at entertaining and amusing my Gentle Readers, which is why is is a touch galling to see other people getting so much attention for doing well what I think I do well. I should say again that I recognize that part of what they are doing well is the stuff I don't do well, in part because I don't want to do it at all, and that is actively publicizing their blogs and gathering audiences to themselves. But I am pretty good at sulking.


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