Thursday, 17 November 2011

"I read your blog..."

These are the four words that can fill me with unimaginable joy... Or absolute dread.
Obviously, I love it when people read my blog; when they comment on some of the things I wrote, say they can personally relate to a particular post, or if they just like to stay updated on what's happening in my life... Saying something positive about my blog will always be one of the best compliments you can give me (second only to saying something nice about my skin).
Some of my most loyal Twitter followers are constantly giving me good feedback and saying some really sweet things about my bi-weekly posts; this is one of the many reasons I love Twitter. Then I occasionally get random messages from old friends saying they've been reading it, as well as people on my course at university. One of my best friends from college told me recently that reading my blog has made her realise what a "gifted writer" I am. Okay, actually "gifted writer" is definitely the best compliment you can give me.

Things like this inspire me to keep writing, and maybe even pursue a career in professional rambling. My new dream is to one day get paid to write a blog. "Whoa, dream big!" (Juno, 2007).

However, sometimes I am genuinely frightened by hearing the words: "I read your blog..."
It never occurs to me that certain people might find and read my blog; I always assume that my blog is in some secret hidden location where only a select few can find and read it... When in actuality, it's on the internet for the whole world to see. The whole world... As well as my little sister, my parents, my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend, all my friends at uni, my former best friends and my soulmate. Yes, none of this ever occurred to me. So when any of the above mention it, reference it or directly quote it to me, I am shocked and horrified ("how did you find it?!!" "It's on the internet, dummy."). I'm also instantly paranoid. I frantically go through all my latest posts in my head, trying to remember if I "mentioned" (aka, bitched about or slagged off) that particular person recently. I immediately apologise to them, chastise myself for being such a horrible person, then I go home and write a post and do it all over again. It's a vicious circle.

I've had some of my closest friends worry about me because of things they've read on my blog, and one friend told me off for posting certain photos and is now saying she's going to buy me a diary for Christmas to prevent me from getting too personal on here...

I think I've managed to keep things at least semi-professional on the blog, and I never refer to anyone explicitly (if you notice, I'm always very careful not to use names - and if I do, it's a big deal). So luckily I don't get a lot of awkward "I read your blog" moments nowadays.
The worst thing anyone has ever said to me about one of my blog posts, is when I wrote a particular post about a guy telling him how I feel, and he said to me in person "yeah I read it. I wasn't affected by it whatsoever." Ouch.

So, generally the blog doesn't get me into trouble. Twitter, however... That's a whole different matter. I've argued with people, fallen out with friends and even lost a best friend because of the things I choose to tweet. I've had so many people questioning me relentlessly about whether or not a tweet I've recently posted is about them. I can honestly say that 9/10 times, people are wrong and my tweets are not about them. I never use names (again, unless it's a big deal), and I always try to keep it vague. I just happen to have this really nasty habit of tweeting whatever stupid thought pops into my head. Those of you who know me well will also know that I have a tendency to exaggerate and distort things if I'm feeling especially emotional. And as you can imagine, this habit and this tendency do not go together well.

So to all of you whom I have offended via blog or Twitter, I'm truly sorry.
To those of you who read my blog and my Twitter, thank you, I love you, keep reading. x

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