You, yeah, you, I see you following me. I noticed you slip in, and I’m aware that you’re there, hovering in the shadows. I noticed the abstract name, the mysterious links. I admit it, it was a little thrill to see my numbers go up, when you walked in. But, then, there’s this nagging question, that follows me around: Why are you there?
I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth (a silly saying, at best) but there’s been a serious influx of new subscribers at Tales From the Motherland, and I’m a little curious… and suspicious. I watch you pop up in my inbox. I look at your gravitar (yes, another strange term), and I notice if you have something to say too. I actually follow that little cue that Word Press sends me:
As if I can’t make friends on my own. I’m not exactly clueless, Word Press. When someone introduces themselves to me, I am generally friendly in return; I don’t need a nudge. But, Word Press has been a tried and true friend, so I try to let these little parental like slips… pass.
I’m anything but anti-social, but I’ve learned a few things along the way. I’ve learned that friendships, like most relationships, take some work. I’ve learned not to rush in, and then find myself stuck. Not to be insensitive, but sometimes when you rush into new relationships, you realize that you just don’t have a good connection, and then it’s too late. You’re stuck with each other. I imagine a lot of the new folks who are following Tales From the Motherland, came along when I was Freshly Pressed two weeks ago. Let me say, it was an enormous thrill, and an honor, and utterly unexpected. The rush of Likes, Comments and Follows was seriously overwhelming… in a really, really great way. But, I sense that some of you followed me on a whim. I’m not sure why you really want to be here. And perhaps I shouldn’t question, or look that gift horse in the mouth, but I am.
My subscriptions have jumped by a lot this week. It’s very exciting. I can’t help but feel a little giddy when I get those cool WP badges that tell me I’ve had my best day ever, or see my graph go up, or that “X” number of people liked something I wrote— Call me vain (but I called myself that, earlier this week, sot that’s old). I’m getting thrillingly close to 1000 followers, and that is a big landmark for me. To those of you who joined because you really like my writing, and wanted to read more of it, thank you! Seriously, I am enormously grateful for the support. I appreciate that you took the time to check out my blog, and then decided to come along for the ride. I’ll do my best to make it good.
For me, it’s a little different. If we’re being frank here, and I am, I’m very slow to follow anyone, so I apologize if you thought I might reciprocate. It’s just not in my nature. I like to get to know you; I prefer to really connect. With the big influx of new followers this past two weeks, I haven’t had a chance to check them all out, and still keep posting, or reading the blogs I do follow. And let me be clear, if I follow, I actually follow. I read every post that come to my inbox… every one. I like to comment, or share some feedback, unless I just don’t have any. If I’ve been busy or traveling, the inbox bursts and I make every effort to catch up and spend time on each post that comes. It’s daunting; I admit, sometimes I have to skim some posts, when I’m trying to catch up. I feel guilty when I do.
So I take “following” seriously, and I take the relationship between myself and the readers, who make an effort, seriously. I don’t mean to be cynical, but a few of you just don’t add up: No picture, no web site, no blogs. If all of that goes along with a fairly reasonable name, then I understand that perhaps you signed on to Word Press just to read and comment, and you didn’t start a blog. Kudos for making the effort! However, call me paranoid, but some of you seem a little suspicious. In fact, one of you came with a name like Facebookscammer. Really? How can we have anything real, if I dont’ even believe you’re a person. I should probably just let it go, but with names like: Alixy025, AKA: Alixcrank (related to IBGullible?); industrialtrainingphp (and this industrial training is in what industry?); agoni12 (sounds painful); o23041978 (there’s a name for you!); OSIS SMP PASUNDAN 1 CIMAUNG (is Pasundan 1 your middle name? And are you yelling it?); dentalzirconiaphil (call me old fashioned, but that name wreaks a bit of dental ads); I feel a little let down. The numbers don’t add up fairly. DO YOU SEE WHERE I’M GOING WITH THIS? I don’t believe you’re real.
I can’t help but wonder, what do you really want with me? In case you haven’t noticed, I write a lot about being a middle aged mother; about aging, and becoming a cliché; I write flash fiction; I write about travel;
|I was suggested this web site through my cousin. I’m no longer sure whether or not this
publish is written through him as nobody else recognize such designated approximately my difficulty.
You are amazing! Thank you!
As if I believe your cousin either. And don’t even suggest that I’m just picking on you because your grammar is off, or you English is poor… It’s the vagary, the over-the-top flattery, that gets you ever time. That, and those of you who send messages in a mix of English and something else. If anyone knows what these say, do tell. One thing’s clear, there are playboys and Prada to be had.
|prada 新作 財布
Why does it have to be so complicated people? I am a writer. I blog. My intentions are sincere and real. If I follow you, it’s because I have read your work (more than once) and I like it. I follow you because I’m interested in what you have to say, and I want to connect. I put effort into it. I am not that friend who is there just to flatter, I bring my integrity along and hope you do too. If you send me a comment, that’s real, that’s in English, I will respond… Every time. If I follow your blog, I will read each post, unless I absolutely can’t. It’s called Real. It’s a big part of why I blog: the connection. I take it seriously, and I hope for the same. Admittedly, I’m a big baby, a real softie: I feel disappointed when you don’t make the same effort. I feel let down when you don’t read my work, or comment, when I put out so much effort with you. But I wear big girl panties, and I don’t hold a grudge (mostly). I get it: we’re all entitled to our labor, not the fruits of our labor; but, know this: with me, you get the whole fruit basket. If you are real, I will be real with grapes, pears and kiwi to spare. If you’re not, (and not to beat a dead horse) I’m looking that horse in the mouth, and calling you out. Why are you following me?
Leave me a comment, tell me why you are in fact following me. You don’t have to flatter, just be real. Tell me how you feel about following others, and what you hope for. If you’d like to chat more, head over to Tales From the Motherland on Facebook, and we can take this to another level. Like me, while you’re there; I’ve already admitted to the vanity part.
Note: No real horses were hurt or prodded in the writing of this post. I apologize to all metaphorical horses, for the hurt and prodding incurred. For the record, I love horses.