The Day I Stopped Caring

“Famous Blogger? That’s like saying a Famous Dentist.” – Pete K from the Defenders.

I’m not as obsessed with this show as you think, just hang with me for a minute. And even if I am, hang with me anyway, okay?

 My first thought about that comment was wow that was mean, but when I thought about it, it really is a true statement.  I started blogging before blogging was cool. I had my little platform on Blogger dot com, played with the coding, changed the back ground with Cuteblogsrus or something, I had followers,I had feedburner and everything else. I did all the work, joined everything from BlogHer to god knows what including MySpace, and back making pretend friends, sharing comments, giving awards, getting awards, joining more rings than the Hobbit himself, trying to build a following and then I realized something, blogging stopped being fun. I spent as much time managing my blog as I would a real job and I wasn’t getting paid. Oh sure google ad said I could make money — by the tenths of a penny, but still. I had no life.

Granted the lack of fun might have been correlated with my breakdown in 2004, or not, I don’t know.

The truth is, I’ll never be a “famous Blogger” and I don’t care anymore. Not caring whether or not I’ll ever be famous is like skinny dipping in my backyard pool – not that I do that if the neighbors ask. But it is freeing, in a weird private sort of way. Now that is not to say that I do not get sucked in from time to time by my marketing friends who insists I can be famous on just five minutes a day.  I don’t stay there long. If Facebook can’t figure out how many friends I have from day to day, I’m pretty certain neither can FeedBurner.

Why I won’t be Famous.

  • I ditched Blogger for WordPress a year ago and am too computer illiterate to figure out how to go back or how to host my own page so that I can do all that pretty coding that I don’t know how to do anyway.
  • I don’t care that Jumla comes in a box.
  • I can’t cook.
  • My kids are no longer cute. — they are 20 and 17 and well. Love them, but you know what I mean.
  • I don’t have some product to push.
  • I hate twitter.
  • I don’t go to tweetups or blog reunions.
  • I think social networking is an oxymoron — seriously how “social” are people who hide behind a computer screen anyway?
  • My gardens are dead.
  • I’m not a remodeler.
  • I have no nitch.
  • I’m just me.
  • And I like that.


Some of the people I started reading way back when are famous now. And you know what? I’m totally okay with that. At least they aren’t dentists. While one of my old blogger friends is now People’s Choice Awards Famous, my other one has left the blogging community in favor of real life relationships. Quite frankly, I’m happy for her. She’s no longer a slave to the meters on the sidebar or the comments in her posts.  As for me – I recovered nicely from my breakdown back in 2004. I learned that doing stand up comedy is a lot cheaper than paying some therapist to listen to me. And now instead of crazy, I can be okay with being neurotic and enjoy my life.

3 thoughts on “The Day I Stopped Caring

  1. Instant fame is not only a pipedream, but it is dangerous. You can look at history in the entertainment field and see that…the Cowsills, Susan Boyle, Dana Plato…all received instant fame and could not handle it. Susan got help fast and is doing well now, but for a while, she was on a ledge. Dealing with fame is like learning to walk; one step at a time is the best approach. But, when you think about it in realistic terms, how much more famous do you want to be than to be the child of the Creator of All Things? HE knows your name and loves you. What more could we ask?


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