Blurking and other bloggy treats

I haven't been blogging a lot lately.
You noticed......didn't you?
Oh ok so you didn't....whatever.... Well if you read my stuff, (I am going to start calling it stuff because I really have an aversion to the word blog. It is just too close to the word blob and we chunky people are sensitive. I remember the first time I heard someone say they blogged and I immediately without knowing what they were talking about sniffed..."not for me.")
If you do read my stuff then you know that I am at best unsure of my motivation to have a blog. I had pretty much steered clear of them because of my said aversion to the word "blog" and life seemed to be in order without one.....until I followed a link given to me by a another missionary mother. It was a sad tale...a true tragedy...a gripping story which begged for the reader to continue to keep coming back for daily updates and status reports. I was going through a little personal rough patch of my own and so the story fed my need to know that there were others who were in pain....worse than my own. I was hooked. I thought about it way more than I should of. I checked it everyday...sometimes more than once. I think it became that diversion I needed to get through some of my own stuff. I felt silly and a little guilty like the rubberneckers on the freeway who slow down to take a long look, only to slow down the drivers behind them, who yell and curse the traffic but slow down themselves to whet the appetite of their morbid curiosity.
I was content to be a blurker.
I encouraged my friends to blurk too. Sending them the links. Feeding their new addiction.
And then it happened.
I became one of them.
For what reason I still do not comprehend. I told myself that it was a fun diversion...a digital scrapbook....a place to write down my thoughts since I absolutely will not keep a journal no matter how many times I am commanded.
It was innocent at first until I noticed that there were blogs with little maps of the world and dots.
DOTS!
Dots from Germany and Iran and Indonesia and Brazil.
I wanted a map.
I wanted dots.
I wanted to know that someone in Botswana found me interesting or enlightening.
Then I realized that other blogs had comments.
COMMENTS!
I didn't just want those. I needed those. Please lady in Botswana please tell me why you are reading this? Hey person in Abu Dhabi why are you clicking on my blog?
I have been privileged to get to know some really amazing people through this blog but the pieces still don't quite fit.
I went back to blurking this summer and read stories that were beyond incredible and beyond heart breaking and beyond well written. I saw pictures that were beautiful and touching and professional. (Did I mention I consider myself a photo essayist since I have yet to write an entry without a picture that inspires me)
With each story I read I became convinced that "my story" was too average and borders on the mundane. (I mean it..really folks..I read about illnesses and deaths, fires and plagues, demon possessions and miracles, awards and human achievements of epic proportions......... and they were well written too)
And so I put myself in blogging jail....I did NOT pass go and I did NOT collect 200 dollars.
But here I am again.
I feel a little like my dog Sadie up there in the picture being offered a bone. Even though they are really just like her regular dog food she can't help but think she is getting a treat.
So what if I am boring.
So what if the dots are only people accidentally clicking on my site.
Who cares if only my friends leave comments.
It's a treat.
And I thank you.