Commenter Spotlight #kc0624

Kendra, I don’t know if you remember this; it was three years ago. And I don’t think I thanked you for allowing your eldest to help me flirt during the desperate times of the 2005 blizzard.

She lives up in Washington Heights. I’ve known her as long as she’s lived in that neighborhood. She’s tall. And sweet. And tall. In keeping with her tallness, she can stand up for herself, and not just on an abstract level. Like, against real assailants.

Her comments are so informative, and it gives me a chance to get to know her better, even more so than when we actually attended the same ward. I mean, if she can especially relate to something I’ve written, I heartily welcome her responses.

This is how I imagine continuing communication with my friends when I no longer live in New York City. I already maintain contact with people who live far away to begin with. Now if everyone else can just get with the program …

I’m Easy

If you look over at the blogroll, you’ll see people whom I know personally, and then attached at the end is a blog I discovered recently. The stories are hilarious, the photography kicks major hiney. If a post moves me enough to comment, I won’t hesitate to do so. And I’ve done so at this blog a few times. And it has this cool feature where if you check the box below the text box for your comment, the last post from your blog will be linked. So today, I checked the box. And I’ve grown accustomed to commenting without expecting comments in return, because I don’t write just to elicit comments. But when I got home today and logged in, I found a bright, shiny comment waiting for my approval. And of course I approved it. It sufficiently inflated my ego; how could I possibly ignore it? And because were so nice and friendly and complimentary, I added them to my blog roll. Seriously, though. I felt honored.

Sometimes with these more famous blogs, I feel like my comments are auditions. Will they read my comment? Will they like it, because if they like it that means they like me?  Could complete strangers really like me? And should I stop basing my self-esteem on the comments I get on my blog? From complete strangers? Hundreds and thousands of people read BillandJill, and my comments are generally gut reactions, but I don’t want to look like an idiot.* But, I comment anyway, because I’ve already laughed out loud at the computer screen. It’s a natural follow-through, the next logical step. So, I don’t think too much before clicking “Send Comment.” Then, I dust off my hands and walk away.

I have more thoughts on comments brewing. If I put my thoughts through a percolator, would it be more like espresso or Sanka? Taster’s Choice? Postum? I don’t drink coffee, but I wonder.

Oh, I’m turning myself into a nervous wreck wondering about the boy situation. I’m gonna have to calm the heck down.

*I have commented and looked like an idiot before. Please be wise in making comments in a post or thread that is emotionally charged. You already know this, I’m sure.