Tuesday, December 05, 2006
laundry and some notes
I don’t have the luxury here, like I do on Reader’s Den, to learn that kind of detail.
I just get bulk numbers and nothing more – which is not to imply those visiting here are bulk . . .
And, I know, it doesn’t matter a whole lot as this blog is more a personal account of things I find amusing or stories I would like to share, but still . . .
Now what has prompted this little outburst (I’ll try to keep it short) is the ever growing number of visitors this place is getting.
It could be me, suffering dementia in my old age, constantly checking my site and hence pumping the numbers way up, or it could be that the numbers are genuine and if so are much more than can be accounted for, even if I include my demented friends, wife, daughter and two pet rats . . .
. . . and a funny thing happened about two weeks ago.
Google decided I was worthy, is the best way I can describe it.
I don’t know how Google figures out who ranks during searches, (there are tons of theories) but for whatever “glitch” has occurred in the Google matrix, I am getting scanned much more than what I was a month ago.
I am not complaining, just wondering. But of course now the pressure to perform is increasing as much as the traffic.
I mean, what if my favourite actress is coming here and reading this? If I’m to be an actual writer one day, maybe even for a TV show, I need to impress with every word, every phrase - make that actress drag her show’s staff writers over to have a look.
See – pressure with a Capital F.
And before you laugh out loud, just remember it could happen. Referral is the number one best job opportunity creator on this planet. Nepotism is a close second . . .
. . . Anyhow, I do have a great tale I want to spin this Friday. It’s all about me and three classmates and an adventure. It dates all the way back from the summer of 74, yeah a mere five years after some Canadian rock star’s “fingers bled”.
It involves back bacon, a gravel strewn highway, two dozen eggs and a hungry bear . . .
. . . really.
Now, I need to post a few quick notes.
Note to favourite actress – love the new darker hair colour, and your show just keeps getting funnier. Somebody would really, really, really love to hear from you. (not me, but somebody I know whom you know I know – you know.)
Note to Devil – not quite ready to sell you my soul yet. Further negotiations necessary. Throw in “writes for How I Met Your Mother and, makes perfect perogie dough” and we’ll talk.
Note to friends – thanks for dropping by and we do need to mingle some this holiday season.
Note to Santa – Sorry to change my mind again, but let’s go for 37 inches instead of 32. I hope that doesn’t screw up your schedule too much. I’ve suddenly realized that I could do with an extra five inches . . .
Note to self – keep up the good fight, keep writing. Don’t neglect your family and friends and try to be less grumpy.
Note to wife – I love you.
Note to daughter – I love you too.
Note to pet rats – um, if you aren’t going to eat that . . .