...that there are other people out there, other than me I mean, that are reading my blog.
I know, its out there for the whole world to see but sometimes I don't think about it. For me, this is my outlet, kind of an online journal of sorts, a gallery of artwork if you will, a place to just let things out. I guess I have taken for granted that I am NOT the only one reading this, naive, I know.
A few examples...
When I showed up at the retreat and Lori commented on "the yellow shoes".
"What?" I said "I love my yellow shoes!"
"I know," she said, "you just blogged about them."
*Blog... right... damn*
Or when I showed up in the yellow scarf and Shasta complained that she was "dying" to see the purple one. I laughed and told her I brought it, but in my head I was thinking "How did she know about my scarf?"
Even the other day, I dropped off invites (have I posted them yet? No? I don't think I have) for Goose's party and upon opening the envelope, my mom commented on my new obession with Gnomes and woodland creatures.
"How did you know about my Gnomes?" I asked
"Your blog..." she said with a bewildered look on her face, "I do read it."
*Right...blog...how could I forget*
Even my mom reads my blog.
Who else reads my blog (and why don't they leave comments?)? Not that I care, its public for all to see. But, I have to admit, it is kind of odd when someone knows something about you that YOU haven't told them specifically. Odd, indeed.