I turned my comments off for a week. What did you think? That question is more for bloggers than for my mom and a few other non-blogging readers, but I'm so curious. Did you like getting a 'break' and just reading? Or would you rather have the ability to respond when you feel like it? (Option (c) - I really don't care one way or another and I think it's kind of weird that you're this interested in this topic. Oh yeah, well that's mean and also I have arm flu from the flu shot that I got three hours ago, so you should really be nicer to me. I could lose my arm. Not really, Matt informs me that it's impossible that I have arm flu because the flu in the shot is "dead" and cannot infect my arm. Know it all.)
From my perspective, it really changed the posting experience. It was weird to put my thoughts out there, accustomed to hearing a few responses, a few echos back from the internet void, and then wait...and remember, no, nope, that's it. Just send the thoughts out and move on. (Except for a few lovely emails, which I deeply appreciated because, wow, it's quiet when you turn off comments.) It felt a little bit like telling a joke and no one laughs, or revealing a secret and everyone listens and then leaves.
I liked that I didn't hold back on posting. Sometimes, I don't post for a few days so that I can catch up or because I want to focus on reading. But, bottom line? I missed you. I found that the interaction is most of the joy for me and I am not just "writing for myself," at least not entirely.
There it is.
Now I'll do a one-eighty on you. This is my two hundredth post. I think. Blogger counts drafts in the number of posts that you have and I am always starting posts and not finishing them, which leaves me with a lot of drafts. According to blogger, I have two hundred and eighteen posts, but when I subtract the drafts (roughly, this is not an exact science), I think we're at 200ish. Could this paragraph be any more anticlimactic?
Yay! It's my 200ish post minus drafts plus the square root of what the hell are you talking about Stacey? A game. I'm talking about a game. A comment game in honor of my 200th (ish) post. Here's how it works. I'll tell you anything* about me that you tell me about you in the comments of this post.
Game examples.
Issa comments: My favorite color is blue. I respond (in my 201st (ish) post): My favorite color is blue too. See how boring that is?
Okay, but I'll work as hard as you do.
Issa comments: I've never been more frightened than when a two-hundred pound bull charged me in a field while I "accidentally" trespassed in Ireland. I respond: I've never been more frightened than when I set off the alarm system alone in a parking garage in downtown DC at midnight. (I might have peed my pants.) (The peeing my pants part is gratuitous, but true.) Isn't that fun?**
To recap this ridiculous late-night post, written while I suffered with imaginary arm flu: After barring you from commenting for a week, I am now shamelessly asking you to comment in a convoluted and complicated manner that requires you to tell me something about YOU so that I'll tell you something about me.
Clear as mud?
*Unless it's obscene. I know it when I see it.
**If you are thinking, no Stacey, that is not fun. That is dumb. I wish you would re-close comments because I like you better when I don't have to interact with you, you are in luck. Marinka has closed comments this week because she is a total copy cat, oh I mean, because she knows a good idea when she sees one. You can visit her obligation free.***
***That's a lie. She just posted another post that allows comments. I'm not sure why she lied on the post before this most recent post, but I think it might be to ruin my life, or at least my blog. Or because she's an habitual liar and she wants you all to think that I'm one too. Thanks, Marinka.****
****Right after I published this post, Marinka took her new comment-allowing post down. Either arm flu is making me delirious, or Marinka is trying to drive me insane. I'm going with the latter. I've met Marinka.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
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64 comments:
Wouldn't it be funny if no one commented? Like ever again?
Hey, I said I was closing comments for a while. Which really meant a few hours.
Then again, there are those of us who have turned into stalkers and never comment anymore.
Oh. Right.
Anyway....useless fact about me: I was never a purse person until I had kids and had to carry that damn bag around for five years straight. Now? I'm all about the cute bag, the smaller the better. Do you see something similar happening to you?
Totally pointless question. I try. :)
My secret ambition in life is to be a back up singer in a band, kind of like the Commitmentettes in the movie The Commitments.
And I'm having a giveaway for my 700th post (show-off, I know)
I don't read every entry of those in my reader except for a core few I have been close to for a while. What I do read I comment on about 50-75% of the time. I take a comment "break" whenever I feel like it, and Mark All As Read to take a reading break whenever I feel like it as well.
I think hearing(reading) bloggers go on about I have THIS many readers, but ONLY THIS many comment is so very boring. I unsubscribe when they do that. I don't care how anyone runs their comment section as long as they don't pressure me.
~Mary
Here's the thing. My own personal thing/issue. Sometimes I really want to post (like last night when my daughter slept w/o a binky and I wanted to let my family know) but I have such a busy day today that I knew the comments/emails would distract me. Perhaps I should turn off the comment emailing forward and just read comments at night, when I have time. I know. But I also know that I love heraing feedback/comments throughout the day on my phone. It truly makes me smile. Like when Marinka leaves me a comment that makes me laugh outloud in the middle of preschool drop off. It's priceless, yo.
But. I didn't post. Why not? I didn't want to bore people and have them feel obligated to comment.
Im just rambling right now. Haven't had my tea yet. Do I make any sense?
Comments kind of feel like taking attendance, so I almost always comment, because that's the kind of kiss-ass student I was. Unless I get behind and have to read several posts in a row, then I just comment once (and then feel like I got counted absent for all the others).
The weirdest thing my Beloved Daughter ever did as a small child was to take a black crayon and color over Huey, Dewey and Louie's eyes. Then she looked at what she'd done and started yelling, "They're blind! Oh, no! They're blind!"
So if you ever hear that my parenting has caused her to need therapy, I just want to go on record that she was a strange little elf from Day 1.
I am faithful reader of your blog... I really should sign up instead of being anonymous, right? Well, then I'm committed and will feel compelled to write and rewrite and comment and spend endless hours crafting my blog...ugh.
But, I do have an admission (of guilt, I suppose) I find something I like, and I MUST have it in every color. Don't ask me to choose or pick one, I can't! Honestly, I really can't. I will obsess at the possibility that I haven chosen wrong and will end up buying them all anyway. It seems logical to just buy them all the first time and save myself a trip. And usually quantity = savings. This is how I justify to my husband. He thinks I'm nuts...but loves me anyway. Currently, this applies to my new purse. The gene has been passed down from my Mom. We laugh about it...and I see it cultivating in my daughter. Sorry, darling. It's soooo good, it's bad.
Hi Stacey...I've never commented before, but what better time to start than when we get to learn about each other. YAY!
Did you know that I broke my leg when I was 4 years old? Of course you didn’t know that, since you didn’t know me...but really, I broke my leg when I was 4 because my brother pushed me off of a picnic table into a trash can and rolled me down a hill. (Don’t ask, I was the victim, not the orchestrator of the event!)
I only have one thing on my mind this morning and that is silence. Will I ever hear nothing again? The noise in my life right now is deafening....and it's making me crazy.
Have I told you lately that I love you?
My vote is for never turning off comments again. I'll never understand why blogs don't allow comments EVER - like why Cjane doesn't allow comments on any of her posts. But that's just my thing. I love to comment (when I have time) so I hate it when I can't!
I am generally very social - very smiley, very upbeat. But I secretly tend to think of myself as very antisocial. Even though I'm not really. I have trouble deciding whether I really am a people person, or I'm just trying not to be lonely. Being lonely is the thing in the world I'm most afraid of.
My brain is not yet awake enough to participate in the comment game, though it's quite possible that it will be a little later on. For now, suffice it to say I'm glad the comments are back. I don't always comment, but there are times I'd love to respond to something, perhaps even more so when the option is taken away. Weird, huh?
I like having the option of commenting, but I don't feel obliged to do so on every post I read.
I don't remember if I've commented here before, but I do enjoy your writing.
After raising 4 children, and being temporarily retired, I dread having to go back to work again. I love my alone time and am never bored. But now I feel guilty not "contributing" and feel lazy for not wanting a job.
i'm so glad your comments are back! yay!
fact: i'm tongue tied. as in i can't stick out my tongue. it's literally tied. it's a for real condition. most people think it's like a figure of speech. anyway, there ya go!
I actually had a few comments during your "comment free" week that I wanted to post but completely forget what they were now. Sometimes I feel like I'm just floating from one blog to another and don't quite remember who said what anymore. Maybe it's time to weed out my reader?
I secretly (ok, not secretly anymore) want to be like you. Well, and more just in the blogging world and not necessarily with all the kids and stuff. But I wish I could write like you or have topics as interesting as yours to expand on. My goal this year was to be a more consistent blogger and I have failed. Here's to 2010.
Well, you killed me with the no-comments... so I cheated and sent the email.
If I had to pick any singer/musician to sit in the corner of my bedroom and serenade me upon command it would be Michael Stipe. You?
I read each post in my reader and try to comment on them when I can because I appreciate the feedback at my own blog, and I assume we're all out there for the same reason, you know? Of course, I say that with a grain of humility because I've been bad, so very bad, about responding to commenters.
Wha? Is this about you or me? ;)
Even though I knew your comments were turned off last week, I clicked over to your blog after reading your posts, hoping that you'd snuck them back in so I could leave something!
If I could have my dream job, I'd be a personal chef. Not one that was at the beck and call of a client. Not where they'd ring a bell and request a dish of ice cream at 3 a.m., and I'd have to fetch it for them. No. My idea is I meet with a client to map out their family/personal meal needs for a week or two, then shop for those needs, come into their home and use their materials to prep and freeze the food, and then leave after cleaning up. My husband laughs at me because, well, it involves cooking. Then he suggests being my first client. Smarty pants, that one is. So, long story short - your dream job, real or imaginary, would be?
I have begun a long and tirelessly boring project of making a check mark system. So you don't comment you just check off 'read' or 'unread'....but I guess if you are already there nobody is honest enough to check off 'unread'....I think I smell a blog post...
My only thought on your no commenting post was that you used the word 'Procurement'.....and I found this interesting as my husbands new job title is VP of Procurement....and I was all, huh? Because he works in retail. Isn't that the opposite of procurement...then I read your post and was like, wait a minute, Stacy used that word also. Do Stacy and my husband know each other? OMG! Is he really going to see Stacy ever week when he leaves for Canada? Are him and Stacy secret friends?? Then I put down the hyperexaggeration hat and started dinner.
I. am. so. confused.
First, I have no recollection of saying those things, so I'm trying to decide if I did, or if you were using me for an example. And then if you were are you using me in a good way, or making fun of me? See? Confused. ;)
Now, I don't mind the closed comments now and again, since I'm perfectly capable of sending you emails. However, I think a WHOLE entire WEEK is a bit long. Maybe do it half the time? I mean really, what I have to say is very important, I'm sure.
My confession (since I don't feel like this comment is long enough) is that I am terrified of horses. I was bucked off one the first time I rode. Sent flying into concrete and broke my wrist. I won't step 200 yards from one. I need a restraining order for all horses really. I won't even buy my children fake ones. *shudder* Except My Little Ponies. Because the day I see a purple winged horse named Nutmeg, is the day I guess I will be forced to look at a live horse.
Useless fact about me that I can share because you live all the way across the country - I had the swine flu last weekend and am STILL recovering. And no, you didn't get it from me. But only because we live on opposite coasts.
I like the comments on :) There is always something I feel like responding to and enjoy the interaction. But of course, on the flip side, even though I get a measly handful of comments it's hard to have the time to respond to them - so I can't imagine what you go through with all your comment love ;) I'm very impressed that you have the time to respond at all! AND still come up with your amazing posts!!!
I will totally let my kids do things (ie: pull all the wipes out of the container and throw them all across the room) for 5 minutes of sanity!! Yes, even if it means I have to spend 15minutes cleaning it all up!
Did I enjoy not being able to comment and sharing my vast and infinite knowledge with the world wide web via your blog? Hell no. Really, Stacy, it's doing the world a disservice, keeping me from sharing myself.
I would have a question for you and about me but you prohibited obscene and offensive questions. Those are the only ones I'm interested in.
I like leaving comments, so closing them is no fun! But I totally understand. If you're comments are closed I just e-mail you, but I guess that takes away from the point,right?
Random/Useless facts about me: I love the color red, I hate most veggies, I have a food and television addiction and I'm in LOVE with Justin Timberlake.
I am neurotic about folding towels. They have to be folded just the right way and stacked neatly in my linen closet. But the clothes? I let them sit in the basket for WEEKS.
I'm happy to have your "comment" section back again. I did send you an e-mail earlier in the week, but it felt like I was being intrusive.
My personal confession: I'd rather drink Mountain Dew all day than eat real food. If MD had liquor in it, I'd be a smelly, homeless, divorced bag lady by now living under the Brooklyn Bridge and naming the flies buzzing around my festering foot blisters.
Too much info?
Sorry.
Culpability.
Since I started lurking here, linked from a link of a blog I read back then, I have started reading you, fell in love with your entire family (except Matt when he's insane (wolf dog) or dresses funny!). I have started my own blog, private because I am chicken. I have emailed you on the side because I was embarrassed by how many times my identifying with your posts made me cry. And my arm still hurts today because I got my shot on Monday (after getting 4 regular weekly allergy shots!).
It nearly killed me not to comment, but I obeyed the rule and deleted 2-3 draft emails that I wanted to send because I couldn't comment!! :)
I also forwarded the "Pouf" to a friend who couldn't understand why I'd read a blog about a phase of parenting I have already passed. Hopefully she's lurking now :)
Do what you must to post so frequently. I've got your email!
Ah comments. Every blogger loves them and the ones that say they don't care about comments are liars. Bloggers that can respond to every comment they get amaze me. It's just too much to keep up with and I only get between 5-10 comments per post!
Anyway. Something random and useless... I am having a hard time helping my 2nd grade daughters with their homework this year. What do these things mean!!
\a\ \å\ /ke/
Am I the only idiot mom who is confused??
I only liked the no-comments thing because it meant you posted more which was fun for the week. I didn't like the no comments thing when I just wanted to say "Thanks for introducing us to Ella and I'll remember her today too, even though I didn't know her." Sometimes I think that one of the greatest things of blogs is that we all share the memories of those one of us has lost. I could have sent you an email but figured you'd get about 1000 of those and didn't want to seem insistently stalker-like.
Um....about me...I really, really like to watch tv. I like to read fiction, but I don't really believe in reading non-fiction (except in rare cases, and the blogosphere of course) because I'd rather use my imagination than fill my mind with 200+ pages of someone's thoughts on one subject. My favorite book is The Preservationist by David Maine. What's yours?
PS - when you silence me for a week, my comments get a little run-on-like, huh?
I have a love/hate relationship with comments. I like to leave them for people when I have something to say because I know most bloggers like them, but I can never remember which blogs I have actually commented on before. I have a TON on my Google Reader and I actually read every entry of them all, so I feel like I know the people but I can't remember if they know me. Which I hate. :) I like the "I liked it" one-click smiley on reader the best. That's quick and easy to do. Otherwise I pretty much lurk. :)
Random about me - I swore my whole life I would not work somewhere that I couldn't wear jeans everyday to. I succeeded with every single job I ever had, until my career. I am a teacher, but at least at my building I get jean Fridays. :)
Even though I knew you turned off comments, I STILL kept trying to click on the post to comment and then going WHY CAN'T I COMMENT WHY IS MY BRAIN BROKEN!? before realizing that my brain IS in fact quite broken because I forgot that you turned off comments.
Oh, so this one time, I was 16 weeks pregnant with Luke and my brain was so broken that I locked my keys in the car with the lights on. I didn't realize until someone was all, Hey, your lights are on, and I was all, Better go take care of it, hey, where are my keys?!
Then when the AAA guy came to unlock my car, HE HIT ON ME, even though I was clearly pregnant.
I'm not really sure where this comment is going, so I'll just end it now. To recap: my brain broke when I first got pregnant and has never been repaired, the end.
I. Hate. Comments. Off. Makes me grumpy. And with my neck in a twisted, firey knot, I am glad that you took pity upon me by allowing comments. However, I don't remember what the hell you were asking us to write about and I am still so peeved at you for turning them OFF that I am NOT going back to see what it was you were even talking about.
Brat.
i just started my blog last week and got giddy with excitement when i got my first comment. i even texted my husband! lame, i know!
I found myself looking to add comments a few times and then I'd remember that you'd turned them off... Glad they are back on again.
About me: (one of my favourite subjects when I'm not trying to be all self effacing and blend into the background)I have this wild dream of having some stylist type person swoop down on me and change my hair and clothes so completely that I have to do a double take in the mirror to make sure it's me; but in a totally rocking it, jaw dropping you look like a fabzillion bucks kind of way as oposed to the WTF were you thinking kind of way. It's my own personal Cinderella complex (it was never about the handsome prince just the makeover)
I am pretty sure Kirsten just told me I was insane in your blog comments. Can you yell at her for me.
I have trouble not responding to everyone. I feel like they took the time to comment, I must take the time to talk back to them. I *may* have issues. Hmmmm, maybe Kir is right. Dam.
OK Well, I like being able to comment but at the same time I feel overwhelmed being one of like 50. I think, oh poor girl, she's FAMOUS! I won't bug her by issuing her my 51st comment. But I still think it should be "allowed". Yet at the same time. . . you reading all those could get very time consuming. hmm. no help at all am I?
Well, my fun fact is I am super clumsey. I mean seriously. My hubby always says "superstar" like I am that chick from SNL. A few yrs ago, when I had a 1yr old, a 2 yr old, 4yr old, 6yr old and 8 yr old. . . I broke my ankle. Really badly. I was at my cousins funeral! My sister parked us on a cliff, and I was the lucky one getting out of the truck on that side. My niece saw me so SHE didn't fall, and in fact giggled, until she saw me lying on the ground. My 1st thought, oh MY GOSH! HOW EMBARRASSING!DONT SCREAM!! Then, @$%& that hurts. Then I saw it. you know, in the movies when you see a broken limb and think, oh that is NOT good. It was like that. Then my thought was, they have to get my butt up that 4 ft drop and into that truck because we cannot call an abulance. They did(my brother and nephew) It was a really bad break and had to require surgery. It was a 1 in a million sort of thing. When I woke, I was thinking, oh no, picket lines for my toddlers??? That was my worst clumsy moment. A few months later I saw a guy at a yard sale. He was a pastor. He said, OH You were at this funeral I did. I saw you fall. . . . yes I did not stay there long.Very embarrassing. STILL
of course once you turned off comments, I wanted to comment for the first time...
I've been reading for a while and thoroughly enjoy your perspectives on marriage, motherhood and life. I myself am not a mother, merely a young newlywed, but I feel like I'm learning a lot from my favorite young mother blogs and holy comment batman, this comment got long real fast.
anyway. keep writing. I'm loving it.
I'm glad your comments are back on :) As for my useless fact....hmmm...
When I was in Greece as a college student, this older gentleman propositioned me for sexual relations in exchange for a fish dinner. Yup...little old me looking more like the LL Bean poster child than a woman of the night...so gross!
I read regularly but comment rarely. I do, however, like being able to read other people's comments. Because reading 150 blogs doesn't cause me to neglect my kids enough, I have to read *other people's* comments on those blogs as well.
My stupid human trick/skill is that I can pick up virtually anything with my feet. Most people seem to use their feet only for the whole standing/walking thing, but I feel that is a real waste of a perfectly good appendage. Why bend down and pick up the matchbox cars when I can pick them up with my feet and not have to bend over? My laziness knows no bounds.
Do you have any bizarre skills?
I like commenting. Both getting and giving. (Why do I feel dirty about that line?) I like the conversation that it produces. Without it, it feels much less personal.
I like comments, but I don't like how I've started to judge myself harshly if I don't get any. That feels needy and weird.
I threw up on my teacher's desk in 7th grade French class. Any good barf stories?
I was hoping to comment on the last blog post, but now I know why I couldn't find the comments link.
Your son seems very adorable. I actually had that same dilemma with a child I am always around. He kept repeating 'I wanna be a boom boom.' After a few straight hours of him saying boom boom, I figured out what he meant. He's four and can't fully pronounce transformers right. So as it turns out, he wants to be Magatron for halloween.
I'm a comment freak, meaning I like to give AND receive them. It was a little hard for me when I couldn't comment on your posts (remember we said so on twitter!)
I leave the dishes for in the morning most nights because I just don't want to do them and would rather look out the kitchen window in the am while I do. Random enough for you? HA!
Okay, I hardly ever comment on your blog, but this one intrigues me.
First off, I'm debating the whole "turn-off" movement too, but..like you said, I don't really write JUST for me. I mean, I do it for me, but I LIKE it because of the others who comment. Lame, i know.
But, my comment thingy for you is:
When it comes to stupid human tricks, I take the cake. I can turn my belly button inside out, I can swallow my tongue (for real!), I can blow bubbles with spit so they float in the air like soap bubbles, I can jiggle my eyes..
really, I'm a living, walking, breathing circus!
In a way you do have arm flu. Well at least your immune system has mounted a response to the 'dead flu' injected into you. This results in a whole bunch of chemicals being released around the site and lots of immune cells rushing in to do something to save you. So you get pain and inflammation and subsequent 'arm flu', and sometimes you might even feel a little flu-ey in yourself. I recommed Paracetamol, I think in your part of the world they call it Acetominiphen or something. But its really good at taking away that flu-ey feeling and safe for almost anyone. Lesson of the day, it is not the Flu virus that makes you feel crap, it is your bodies response to it.
So you can tell Matt that essentially you DO have arm flu.
i don't mind comments off. sometimes i just read. if i really want to say something, i know how to use the emails.
i like to smoke pot. (this may or may not be true.)
I'm trying a different tack; I've been totally neglecting my blogging life in favor of real life. I've got a few stories to tell but they're all backed up now so I'm afraid to write what may just turn into one of those newsy Christmas letters.
Well, I don't mind closed comments, I guess. I do like commenting most of the time. I have only closed comments once, but then people emailed me or left comments on other posts of mine. Which was okay.
Something about me. Apparently I don't know the difference between a canter and a trot even though I have been driving my daughter to horseback riding lessons for what seems like forever now. (At least 7 years) What makes it worse is that she thinks that there is something wrong with me because of it. I tell her that horses aren't my thing, but she insists that I should be able to tell basic things. I tell her that I can tell when the horse is standing still or jumping over something. This totally made her roll her eyes.
I want to thank Issa because had I not seen her comment I would have nothing to post here, seriously, I had no idea what I was going to say.
I try to only comment when I think I actually have something to add or an actual observation of some sort. But I love reading comments, even if its just to point out that someone is actually reading what I wrote. I like that you have comments back up even though I don't comment often, I love reading your stories, and I enjoy reading your commentators(?).
Oh, and for you cryptic comment thingy - I was born and raised in Brasil and I'd love to have a big family like your family. I don't know if I would want to stop working and it worries me that I may not be able to do both.
Did I do all this correctly?
I find it a little frustrating when I can't comment, because the interaction is the important thing for me as well (both on my own blog and on others). But I work pretty hard at not feeling 'obligated' to comment, so I don't think I feel the same pressure some people do.
Um, ok, useless fact about me...I have 2 tattoos and 2 gold teeth. I'm about to end up with a new gold crown, so does that mean I need another tattoo?
I did read a few of your posts and want to comment on them. But I totally understand why you did it. I have not been keeping up with my responding to comments at all lately, its so hard. And I've barely been blogging (or reading other blogs - sorry).
I wanted to dye my hair pink when I was 13 because I thought I was all cool and punk rock. But I waited until I was almost 40 to do it. Well bright red but its close enough to pink. So my question is was I cooler then or now? Or am I just not cool at all? I don't know.
I hated the no comments because I so wanted to comment but by the time I got to email I'd forgotten what I was going to do because I still have baby brain four years later. Don't do that to me again :)
Soooo my thing. Huh. I really hate it when my husband laughs. At himself. When he says things. That aren't funny. Liiiiike, "See, the Isley Brothers had song blah blah blah hit number one in blah blah blah heh heh heh." a) it wasn't funny and b) don't laugh at yourself. Apparently I'm crabby tonight, too.
I read your blog back to the beginning and wanted to tell you when I was one year old to the age of 4 I lived on the island of Saipan. Thus said this was in 1959-to 1962. A really long time ago.
My father was in the Navy, and my brother was born there. I don't think there is anything wrong about closing your comments. I read alot of blogs but rarely comment, mostly because I can't remember my user name and or password for so many different kinds of comments.
I only have one thing on my mind this morning and that is silence. Will I ever hear nothing again? The noise in my life right now is deafening....and it's making me crazy.
How to make a website
I only have one thing on my mind this morning and that is silence. Will I ever hear nothing again? The noise in my life right now is deafening....and it's making me crazy.
How to make a website
I didn't like not being able to comment to you, because let's face it, I'm chatty. But-- I have always wanted to turn off the comments so that I could get my life back-- wait, that sounded bad. I want to post, I know posts bring comments which are my personal little treasures--but comments need to be reciprocated and because my life is hugely chaotic, I don't feel I hold up my end of the deal and feel guilty so I then post less-- and I need to post. It's therapy.
I could just ramble in someone else's comment section and maybe get the same fix ;-)
I thought you were very wise for shutting down comments, but I am sincerely happy it wasn't permanent.
I like having the option to comment but never feel it's an obligation.
OK, useless fact: I never came closer to divorcing my husband than on our honeymoon, when we got back to London late and the Tube was closed, and he insisted that Paddington Station wasn't a long walk. When we were still walking at 2 a.m. with heavy backpacks, our 2-week-old marriage was in jeopardy. And possibly important parts of his anatomy.
I check my email all the time. Like, in the bathroom. In the middle of the night while I'm waiting for the baby's formula to get warm. At stoplights. I think I might live on email. And technology in general. I will stay up all night working on new websites. It's a sickness.
Ok...so I get behind on my Google Reader and you do this! Fantastic idea!
About me: I love to sing. I know lots and lots of songs. And usually all I can do is hum or stumble along because I can't remember lyrics to save my life. That's why I love karaoke so much...it gives me the words!
Also, even though I have 3 kids, 2 dogs, a husband and a mortgage I don't feel like an adult. Sometimes I look around and wonder how exactly *I* became the resident grown-up.
Please don't turn off comments. But on my own blog, I would love to keep them off, I guess if I really moved someone (cough, cough) they would email me right. It's too much pressure for me sometimes when I hear crickets, I really shouldn't care.
Something about me? I can happily sit here commenting on blogs and reading posts while my sink is FULL of dinner dishes. Shame on me...Off I go.
WAIT! Can i be a belated commenter? As if catching up on blog reading/comments would be any different than my REAL life...
I hate that i never get comments :O( I think my page view counter thing must be possessed because in ONE NIGHT it went from 300 something views since August to over 11,000 views, and how many new comments... NONE. Whatever, i must suck. Damn, another one bites the dust...
huh. your comments closed week coincided with my google reader closed week (or 2...). i'm glad, because i would've been very frustrated and a little sad about not getting to comment. I LIKE TO COMMENT! ;-)
i can think of no interesting facts about myself. sad, i know. but i'm ok with it.
well.. it's like I thought!
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