It’s two years since I dipped my toe into the blogosphere with Time Goes By. We didn’t know one another then and now we do. That is the magic of blogging. Let’s give a big hand to the unnamed people who invented blogging software and services that make it so easy for us to form such extraordinary communities among ourselves.
We sit at our screens tapping our keyboards, some half a world away, and we matter to each other. We listen and tell our stories, share our pleasures and concerns, teach and learn, laugh and love and cry - the last sometimes in sorrow and others, as I did yesterday, in joy.
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From Stowe Boyd writing at /Message
Some of what Linda says seems like a request for better ettiquette surrounding social interaction in the always on world. Fine. But maybe the reason it sounds oldtimey to me is that I don't spend my time in large corporations, in staff meetings, or the like. I am a soloist, spending most of my time connected to people remotely, and that sense of connection, however tenuous, is all that I have. I have to remain in touch with my posse, or I have nothing but myself. There is no organization backing me up.
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From Shelley Powers writing at Burningbird
I don’t mind marketing at all, but I want to see it coming. I want to know that when people respond to me, it’s really what they believe. I don’t want to spend time reading and writing and at the end the day, wonder how much of the interaction was real. I don’t want to be a part of the buzz. I’m too old to be part of the buzz. I was too old to be part of the buzz at least half a century ago. That’s a long time to be out of the buzz.
Conversely, I want people to know when I respond to them, positively or negatively, they know I mean it–that I’m not playing a game. I won’t say anything in an email that I’m not willing to say in my weblog; I won’t say anything in a comment I won’t say in my weblog. I’ve seen it happen too often–someone is sweetness and light in their weblogs, and then a complete asshole in email or comments. What they publish publicly rates right up there with creating agile software–its all words that don’t mean a damn thing.
Since, I’m wishing, I wish you all would stop blowing bubbles all the time; and speaking your lime green, yellow, and pink thoughts–but then I might as well wish for more angular corners; what you do on your own dime is your business. But when you step on my time, it’s mine.
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When I was a little girl, we had "extras." An Extra was something that was kind of a bonus, that didn't count, but that someone wanted to give to you anyway. It could have been an extra birthday present but one that they were not quite sure of for some reason; perhaps it was something they had found, rather than bought, or something that they knew might not be exactly right but the impulse to give it was stronger than its potential to displease. They are little splurges that you could not help getting, but they are not the main attraction. Yet they might end up being the most memorable gift of the day.
Tired of trying to be a somebody? Despair of ever being on the blogger “A” list? Never got to sit at the cool kid’s table in high school? Manolos hurt your feet? Don’t see how a Torture (Um, Miracle) bra can help your career?
Well, now you too can join the ever-so-exclusive Nobody Club! You can even get a button for your site! (And, as soon as I can figure out how to get the dang thing to show up on this site, I’ll have one right here…some days technology and I just do not get along.)
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