I’ve been looking through my server logs recently. One of the discoveries I’ve made is that I get a lot of traffic from gambling and adult-oriented sites. I get a lot of traffic from people looking for my reprint of a 1999 Boston.com article on “designer vaginas”. I get a lot of traffic from an old entry that just happens to mention the word “lesbians”. Very strange stuff, indeed.
I used to get a lot of traffic from people googling themselves. At least two ex-girlfriends have written me about what I’ve said about them here (one asking me politely to remove her last name from the site and the other just writing to laugh about her mother reading about her teenaged exploits). A kid I went to middle school with wrote to me about this entry, where I retold the story of us torturing him on a school trip. He asked me to remove his name and threatened to slash my tires if I didn’t. I’m pretty sure he was only half-joking.
Meanwhile, other bloggers and journalers get listed on Top 100 Lists. They are linked to by countless peers, who put them on pedestals, labelling them geniuses, the very cream of the crop of this little subculture.
Some people get fired for their blogs. I’ve actually been commissioned by work to design a blog, thanks to my experience in running a blog myself.
I continue to plod along with my little “life story” journal, as old school as that may be, in the hopes that one day it will be recognized for the strange achievement that it is. Who else out there has dedicated themselves to telling a whole life-story online, from beginning to end? Sure, I haven’t gotten there yet, (I’m only back as far as November of ‘94 at the moment), but I will get there. Will I be recognized then?
Who knows? Who even knows what this entry is about. I just find it strange that so much of my notoriety on the web comes from my occasional rants on lesbians, strippers, designer vaginas, and the sex lives of Benedictine Monks.
Okay, I haven’t written about the monks yet. But, it’s on my to-do list.