"Thank You for Not Unsubscribing"

I've managed to keep this blog alive for a year. It's an accomplishment I'm rather proud of because there have been times when I wanted to put it through the shredder.

I think I created "Rimarama" in early 2007, posted a single (and very self-conscious) entry, then promptly forgot where it was located in cyberspace. I found the blog again in the beginning of August last year, and that's when I began fartin' all over the Internet on a regular basis.

Except that I had no idea what I was in for. At first I viewed blogging only as an exercise in creative writing and I enjoyed it very much. I looked forward to that magical one hour window every afternoon when the kids were napping or otherwise occupied to sit down in front of my laptop and flex the old front temporal lobe, which had begun to atrophy from misuse.

Then I discovered "mommy blogs," and thought that I might like to marry them. I wondered how it was that I'd survived the past three years of stay-at-home motherhood without gorging myself daily on the intimate details of other womens' lives.

I started to get greedy. Could I, too, be included on someone's blogroll? Might I cajole a hapless surfer to stumble upon my humble little web site and leave a comment? Could I get them to return and bring all of their friends? Begin selling Rimarama T-shirts and mugs? Build my own internet empire around poop and boogers?

As it happens, I cannot haz empire. But I can have a creative outlet, a sense of accomplishment, kick-ass readers, commenters, and honest to goodness friends.

I can also have feelings of inferiority, ridiculous self-imposed posting requirements, imaginary reciprocation commitments, and an unhealthy perspective on blogging in the grand scheme of things.

Now that a full year has passed, I'm belatedly asking myself what my ultimate goal is here. This blog is a chronicle of my life and that of my family that I hope will live in posterity, but I would be delusional to think I'm not writing for an audience. Knowing that someone is out there reading, enjoying, and possibly chuckling at what I have to say is my motivation for putting it out there in the first place.

As much as I would love to expand my readership, I've learned that, when it comes right down to it, I don't want to do the things it takes to actively grow my blog.

I suck at social networking sites.

I'm not willing to tailor my style of writing to appeal to a large audience.

I'm terrified of guest posting, asking for links, and generally pimpin' myself out.

And I'm generally too lazy to participate in memes, carnivals, and award chains.

I want to write when the urge hits and about whatever strikes my fancy.

I want to keep it light, and I want to get better at it.

I want to get a kick out of re-reading my own damn post or watching a smile spread slowly across the P-Dawg's face as he reads it.

If possible, I want you to leave here smiling, but if I can't pull it off, if I'm not feeling the funny, if my idea of funny is not the same as yours, even if you unsubscribe, I want to let it roll off my back.

I once told a friend that I knew I wasn't a "writer at heart" because I didn't feel a driving need to write every day. But a funny thing happened once I started writing here - I found it was hard to stop. Like exercising, the more I did it, the more I wanted to continue.

At minimum, writing regularly in this space has forced me to use brain cells that might have otherwise died watching Oprah. The act of wrapping words around my quotidian experiences as wife, mother, woman allows me to see them with a clarity and perspective that would have been lost if they'd slipped away, unrecorded.

One day soon I hope to convince myself that my subscriber count, my Technorati ranking, or the number of comments I get is not really a testament to the quality of my writing or the relevance of what I have to say. Right now, I almost believe it.

That said, I am truly grateful for every one of you who reads regularly or stops by from time to time to entertain my delusions of grandeur.

You totally make my day.



P.S. Which one of you f*ck#rs unsubscribed yesterday????