Perseverance

See those blogs I've listed over on the right side of the screen? Do you realize how much work I have put into those links?

I don't do it the new-fangled way. I understand there are programs that allow you to just click a button to add a new blog to your links. But I type every single blog link under "Worship Them" into my template. Now that's dedication. If only I could find time to read them all on a regular basis.

All too often, it seems that these blogs disappear within a month or two. There are probably so many blogs in my blogroll that are defunct. (There is a theatre company in Portland called Defunkt and they have permanently ruined my ability to spell the word without looking it up.)

I understand why people quit blogging. There are so many reasons. Some people feel let down when stats are low and indicate nobody is reading. Others have so many hits that they feel overwhelmed and get performance anxiety. Finding a new boyfriend or girlfriend is a big reason for people to drift away from blogging. Boredom, illness, drama and alien abduction are also very popular reasons people stop blogging.

There have been many times since starting Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven that I have felt like quitting. Sometimes I have wanted to quit when my personal life blew up because of something I posted. (This could be a book. I swear. You have no idea.)

People have been upset with me for writing about them, and others have been upset for not writing about them. Sometimes it feels like you can't win. But I don't care anymore. I really don't. In fact, if you were about to leave a very nice comment saying that this is my blog and I should write what I want, please don't trouble yourself. For one thing, you are correct and very kind to want to encourage me. For another thing, I don't need encouragement in that area. It has become a full-fledged conviction of mine that I am allowed to write whatever I want.

Another reason I have almost quit writing is that I've felt lazy. Just don't want to be bothered to update. That is a little bit of how I'm feeling right now. But I'm trying to push through. Even if I post pictures of my belt, (hard-hitting commentary is not my forte) at least I'm posting something.

Why is it important for me to post something, even if I don't think I have anything to say? Well, as it turns out, sometimes the posts I think are most inane and pointless actually provoke discussions and change in others. I have received e-mails from people who told me they decided to come out of the closet because of something I wrote. Another person decided to move across the country after he read a post of mine. (No, he wasn't moving further away from me. You know you were thinking that.) Maybe posting about tightening my belt will inspire someone to lose weight. Maybe it will inspire someone to buy me a new belt. Maybe it will inspire someone to start a blog because they know they could do a much better job of writing than I do, and that person will become famous for his or her blog, and they will rise to international acclaim. And all because I wrote about my belt.

Once I almost quit blogging because someone I know had legal issues and I was linked to the person. So, it seemed that my blog was suddenly under investigation due to someone else's actions. It made me paranoid. But I didn't quit. I did, however, destroy all evidence of my links to the Russian secret police.

I know some of you have stuck around for quite awhile. Do you remember some of those crazy crushes I felt compelled to share with the world? Some readers know everything that happened on some of my first dates and all sorts of intimate details of second dates. Sometimes I've said too much - sometimes not enough.

I love you readers who have stuck with me through the years. Staying power means something to me. Too many bloggers have come and gone. Too many readers have come and gone. But you and me? We're gonna be a "happily ever after" story. I feel it deep down inside.

Love,
Hot Toddy

P.S. Once I wrote all my friends a letter on my birthday to let them know how much I love them. Two people perceived it as a suicide letter. I guess I sometimes become over-zealous about letting people know they make me happy, but, trust me, I'm feeling great.