On the occasion of my 200th post..

..I would like to share with you all an email I recently sent to Fifi. It was triggered by an innocent enough question - namely how, when I first started blogging nearly a year ago, did I get people to visit here? What follows pretty much sort of covers my perception of how this whole thing works. Feel free to agree or disagree. What you're not allowed to do is say nothing - this is my 200th post, and in the spirit of that everybody has to say something in the comments. Love me or hate me - regular, lurker or psychopath - at least tell me hello. Anyway, here it is:

"...I can't really remember. My friend gave me a link, and then you just basically trawl all the good blogs you can find and leave pithy, erudite comments so that people are fascinated by you and are drawn to your blog, where you have oodles of beautifully-crafted, snortingly hilarious things to delight them, so they comment, so you link to them (but PLEASE, only if they are good and NOT perpetual, stalking weirdos or anyone who is shamelessly whoring [you’re not because you really do like the blogs you comment on and you’re not one of those people who leaves generic comments just to drive traffic or anything and besides, it’s not just you who does it, is it?]), so they link to you, and it's all just beautiful and symbiotic (no idea what that means) and ooh.

And then, somehow, you appear to be Popular (inasmuch as upwards of twenty people pop by on any given day). And then you start to run out of things to say. So you obsess on a daily basis about what to post, and when to post it, and how many comments you get, and how many comments other people get, and why are they more popular than you despite being rubbish, and why won't that perpetual stalking weirdo STOP FOLLOWING YOU ROUND THE BLOGOSPHERE, and should you stop? Or keep going? Or be funny? Or tell your secrets? Or make it all up? But you carry on anyway because it's too late now - you're locked into it and you can't stop because you crave the attention, and you read somewhere that only 30% of bloggers carry on after three months and because you need to prove that you are able to stick at something, anything at least once in your life you resolve to carry on. And it's like a job now, but one you really enjoy, and you have to visit your favourite blogs every day and read everyone on your list and leave a comment because that's what they do for you and that's why you go back to them and comment and that's why they come back to you. And every so often you think "there are millions of blogs out there. I need to get out more," so you do, for a while, but it takes too long and is just too much effort so really, the blogosphere is tiny and you have this thing where even if you think you've struck out into a new area you bump into people you know (usually that perpetual stalking weirdo, which annoys you but you don't know why, because it’s not like you actually know this person, but still, the sight of them in the comments on your favourite blogs really, really irritates and you want to say something but you don’t because on the very verge of doing so you realise how weird it would make you seem) but it's all ok because these people are your online friends now which is sort of sad but really ok because apart from the mentalists (and you know in your black, secret heart that on somebody's list you are one of the mentalists) they're pretty cool and you have your in-jokes and your people you email behind the scenes who know your real name and then that makes you panic because can you trust any of these people? What if they out you and get you sacked? What if they want to meet you? What if you agree, and instead of the friendly mommy-blogger you were expecting, you unwittingly offer yourself up to the depraved clutches of a six-foot-seven psychopath called Trevor who has separation issues from his mother despite being forty three and before you know it you're headline news and people on Newsnight investigate blogging and shake their heads wisely and marvel at the stupidity of making friends on the internet and your family are devastated and slightly embarrassed at how lame you were and people set up blogs to discuss you and how lame you were and you live forever as an example of all that was wrong with people's social lives and emotional judgement in the early 21st century and your kids change their name so nobody will know they were related to you.....?"

Do you think I might be reading a bit much into this whole blogging thing? And if anyone can come up with a better name for it than the "blogosphere" (saying that makes me feel like I've crashed a fifteen year old niece's party and proceeded to do the Twist to the Black Eyed Peas) then please, let me know.