First year on. Apologies for not doing this yesterday. That’s impressive really, mark the first year of the blog by missing a day. Life got extremely in the way yesterday. Then I stupidly deleted all the work I had done for this blog anyway. No more time for excuses. Onward.
So first anniversary retrospective introspection navel gazing, as promised.
I am in a particularly introspective mood so apologies for what follows (I’m not sure what it will be, to be honest.)
I suppose I measure how popular a particular post is by the hits it gets on any given day (roughly between 30 -50 on average), the number of comments it generates (take a bow my three regular mad, much-loved commentors) or the number of emails I get privately telling me how much someone enjoyed a particular post. As I have said I have been flabbergasted by some posts that I put out in pure desperation and then take on a life of its own. eg:
This went mental at the time. I wrote it in a hurry as I had nothing better to say. People loved it. I got so many emails (not the most, mind you. The most I ever got was about my toilet habits) telling me how funny they thought it was. It generated a couple of sequels, such was its popularity. It also has me eavesdropping everywhere for funny things to write in the blog.
Another throwaway idea that struck gold. People loved the idea of superstitions. I had loads of mails telling me of all the odd superstitions people believed. Fortunately, without even that help, my Gran had millions that I will be able to milk for the blog.
I probably should have known this would have been big. Doctor Who is a huge success and it was reflected in the spike in interest the blog experienced as a result. it was tempting to milk that as well however other things came up that were far more interesting to other people. And you know where I’m going there. I am going to the Doctor Who Experience in London though, so expect a return to the delights of Doctor Who exhibitions before June.
This makes me cry whenever I read it. I doubt you would have the same response as it is one of those “had to be there” moments. Still, included as it makes me weepy and it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to. heh
Whereas I had more mail about this post, where people told me they were genuinely moved to tears by my words, than … well… ever. I am not sure if it was recounting my crappy coming out experience or people responding to my understanding of some people’s need to stay in the closet for the moment but this touched people. Lots of lovely emails thanking me for this one. The response to this post was genuinely lovely.
Who would have thought that Cadbury,over whom I have dedicated much of my life in orgasmic rapture , would treat me so badly when I needed them most. That trip has gone into legend in the family and I am now not allowed to pick anywhere to go for field trips. As such I am going to Manchester United Football Club (who cares) and the Battleship museum (who cares) due to Cadbury being such a dog box.
This was the first post I had written which I genuinely found funny. I can still read it and chuckle to myself. I am tempted to return to Cardiff this time armed with flowers to lay at the shrine. I will ensure my visit is video taped and my wailing heard for miles around. On the other hand, maybe not, cos the Doctor Who Exhibition has closed there. Seems only half a trip this time.
I don’t think this is necessarily funny per se. Though I must confess meeting Sandy the snack food Goddess was one of the highlights of the last trip. What I find funny, still to the point of tears, was Wesley’s comment here, in relation to the Twinkies. He remains on my list and will pay. Oh how he will pay.
The notion of eating kangaroo generated a load of interest from outside my usual readers. Clearly the idea of eating Australian cuisine is something I should explore more often as it struck a chord. Having said that I can’t think of Australian cuisine other than damper that I have eaten recently. I guess I could pretend I have eaten crocodile in the last week but, as I am living on optifast, that seems cruel to everyone, especially my tummy. Consider the idea on the back burner….
I had forgotten this occurred, which is a shame as it remains a remarkably sweet moment in my life. It’s lovely when young people think you’re amazing and aren’t quite grown up enough yet to know you’re full of something less amazing. This was one of those moments. I hope to see Saul again when I return in a few weeks. Hopefully he hasn’t grown up too much to see through me.
This was the moment the blog took off, riding purely on Mr Royuk’s coattails. I still remain irritated by the server that night which is an indication to me that I need to move on. Meeting the Bradster was quite delightful even if the night was amazingly loud. Next time we ARE going to the Outback Steakhouse. I even have the address. Keep May free Brad. On the strength of that one post, my stats went from a measly ten people a day to a much more respectable number. For a hit whore such as myself, this was incredibly helpful as I was starting to despair at how few people were reading. That, it would appear, people have continued to read this gives me great joy.
Ahhhhhh my makeover. The last time I got a haircut too, so doubly important. (Evidently I am sooooooooooooo close to 10 kgs…) I still remain in shock when I see myself in something other than a blue shirt. Four months later and I still do a double take in the mirror. As a result of that experience my laundry bill has skyrocketed, I have layers which I look at fondly and pray for colder weather so I can wear them again (though I should be well layered in Europe); I am fastidious about attacking my nose and ear hair. I remain patiently waiting for Wesley to come decorate my house. This is, after all, only fair. He owes me for the Twinkie remark.
Simply put. Best morning ever. One of those remember all your days moments.
The Top Three
The most popular blog posts; in terms of emails and hits and comments, last year. And if you had asked me at the beginning of the year, I could have predicated none of them. Completely out of the left field, the lot of them. I do not know what it says about my readership or my writing or what… all I know is that these three were PHENOMENAL. So in reverse order then…
I know! I don’t get it either. Who knew. The debate about the pronunciation of a word became my first genuine steamroller. People went mental. I got abusive emails telling me the American (Wesley’s) pronunciation was correct, I got email telling me the English (my) pronunciation was correct ( which obviously I believed). Ultimately it was never really resolved, though equally obviously it is pronounced MahCrahMay. That people became so obsessive over it was really fascinating. I had loads of hits over that blog. And Wesley still mispronounces it, which saddens me. (Twinkies……)
This was a runaway train. I still get people writing to me telling me it’s the funniest thing they have read. I love the fact people laughed so much at it. It makes the incident of urinating in front of the Queen slightly more bearable. Slightly. I still have to face her again at some point. What I didn’t mention in that blog, as at the time I was mortified by the whole experience, was that in the process of failing at urination I got myself literally soaked with urine. Literally the front of my pants were sodden. Thank God it is the style to wear your shirt outside of our pants as this made the wet patch less notable though I remained appalled that everyone could smell it. Then the Queen takes me to her study to show me her books all the while my pants are wet and I am desperately trying to leave and yet show a respectable amount of politeness. I was beside myself with embarrassment.
I seem to have many days that live in family infamy.
And finally, no one predicted this one.
There is a throwaway line in this blog , about my eye cancer (by the way, do you know when I have an appointment to get that checked. June 6th!!! and this is with private cover!!! JW better be wrong. Back to the story), that mentions Wesley’s desire to circumcise me. This was taken further in the comments of this blog and mentioned occasionally over the next week. Well more than occasionally. The thing is, there was method is my madness. Whenever I mentioned it, or it got mentioned in the comments, my stats would skyrocket. Literally quintuple. It got so I would mention it off the cuff to see if the same phenomena occurred (which it did.)
Personally I have found the whole experience really funny. The comments about my being circumcised are some of the funniest ever (and if you do not read the comments you miss out on so much wonderful stuff) and there is clearly an audience that I have inadvertently tapped into. It is completely fascinating. I have spookily moved from my mindset of ‘no way re circumcision’ to ‘maybe I should let Wesley doit ‘ which makes me laugh and laugh at the things I would do to amuse my audience. Thank god they are not into immolation.
Circumcision week is coming. Bring popcorn.
I may make t shirts with that as a motto.
So that was long-winded wasn’t it. Thank you, as ever, for coming here and reading this silly little thing. Hopefully you will continue to do so over the next year. I am off to Europe in five weeks so things will pick up in terms of amusing, non circumcision, content.
Look forward to seeing you here.
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