Everyone seems to know when their blog’s birthday is. I don’t. I think I started it July 2011? Does that mean I don’t care? I don’t know. I do know that not much has happened since its’ so-called birth. Ridiculous. A blog’s birthday. Sometimes I think blogging is such a wank.
I read on various ‘famous’ bloggers sites that they started up a blog, left it, then went back to it and wrote posts til words evacuated their pores like a sweat leaving a menopausal woman having a hot flash on a searing hot Summer day. I’m doing that first bit still… ’the-started-a-blog-and-left-it-then-came-back-to-it- then-left-it-again’ part.
I am a haphazard blogger with a seemingly large social media following though.
But with very few people who ever comment…except my Mum.
Thanks to The Shake, where I can be found writing twice a week, my stats have gone through the roof and I recently blew my bandwidth. That was a nice day…realising that there are actually people out there who are reading the garbled words that fly out of my brain and somehow end up on here, hopefully assembled in some kind of grammatically-appropriate, mildly interesting order.
Obviously I’m getting visitors, which is, again, nice…but who the hell are you? And, why don’t you comment?
Are you even out there, or do you just hang around looking for this so-called ‘Minx’ who is really just another random Mummy blogger with an egotistical pipe dream of becoming the next big thing?
For now, I just want to write. I’ll write about whatever and you’ll just keep on coming here and not commenting.
So, are you here right now? Is anyone here? Or am I just a random blogger obsessed with chronically over-sharing the boring details of her amazing life?
(I reserve the right to delete this post. It’s not my best and most fabulous. I’m feeling a tad sarcastic, sweary and trollish today. So what?)
And here’s a picture of my cat, Barney, because he really knows how to do grumpy, swearing, trollish and sarky well.