Ho, Ho, and Ho! The phrase, "I hate being fat" has got me a lot of hits off of google lately. But not nearly as many as being on the list for having been at JournalCon 2001. In fact, last week I tied my previous high hits for a day (79!), set in July of 2000, when I put up my napster site... which is now woefully dated, but it still attracts a handful of hits every day. And now, since we're speaking of hits, which is the golden standard of this internet world... I'm doing just fine, thank you. I rarely talk about hits, and there's a reason for that. You see, I'm one of the first on-line journallers, having started when there were maybe ten of us... so you would think that, over the years, I would have accumulated a huge following. Well, if you would think that, you would be wrong, my dear friends. And I say dear friends because I really mean that. Somehow, I feel a connection to the people who read these entries regularly. That connection is probably just the attraction of one insane asylum inmate to another, but it's there. Anyway, by sharing a part of my world with you, I expect to get something back, and I do. Ticks of that hit-meter. Validation of a sort. But, but... what if every one of my wonderful readers is laughing their asses off at how much of a bumpkin I am, and what a naive egotist! What then? So, what's yer point? A hit is... a hit. And I can attach whatever feelings I want to to that hit, and nobody can stop me from doing that. And I prefer thinking warm fuzzies about my readers, even if they deserve more venom that I have to give. I prefer, in any gathering, in any medium, to keep my back against the wall, far from the limelight. I've done well with that attitude, and I do plan on keeping it. Sure, it's maybe not as much fun as being big on the stage, but my chances of falling and breaking my neck are far, far less. Even in this little world of online journalling, we have our stars. There are many of them, and their names change and their faces change and their words change, but they're all, always, always, excellent. What is excellence in the world on online journalling? Damned if I know. And I'm pretty sure that nobody else does either. Sometimes we know it when we see it, and we almost always know the opposite... the dreck, the dregs... fairly frequently the excellent journal entry will be followed by... dreck. Dreck. Pure dreck. That's what I love about the journallers that I follow. They're not perfect. They have bad days, they have bad entries. In general, though, they have more good days than bad ones. And that, I think, is my main problem with these entries... I have more bad days than good ones. However... however. I don't let that bother me, not one bit. I once had a journaller call me pedestrian, and at first I felt insulted. Well, I think that it was probably meant as in insult initially, of maybe just a critique of my style. I've also been called eclectic, which I kinda like, but it kinda means pointless too, if you want to look at it like that... So, I don't know what started this off, but to wind it up... I'm happy with the way things are. I don't want to be a writer, that's not one of my ambitions... these entries are the extent of the writing that I want to do. I generally enjoy them, although sometimes lately it seems like a chore getting started, but I'm OK once I sit down and start writing... anyway, I offer no apologies for what I write or for who I am. I yam, and this is a direct quote, what I yam. And yes, I'm still having fun here.