Tonight I watched Jeopardy and on it appeared Josh Fruhlinger, editor and most excellent owner and creator of The Comics Curmudgeon, my favorite little spot in the bloggiverse. This is the first place I check every day after Sledgeweb and my email. If you haven't been there, this blog discusses the day's comic strips, often focusing on the soap opera-style comics like Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G, and then he makes fun of them. I watched, cheering Josh on, when suddenly my husband walked in the room and said, "What's going on?" I pointed to the TV and said, "There's a friend of mine on Jeopardy tonight!"
The truth is, Josh doesn't know I exist. I have been reading the Comics Curmudgeon for almost two years and have never, ever posted there. But because I have read it so long I feel like Joshs and I are old friends. Now that I am doing the "blog thing" it's strange to think about how close I feel to this virtual/actual stranger. As a reader I think it's fantastic. He is so intelligent and so ridiculously funny, I feel lucky to have found his site. As a blogger I wonder if my readers will ever feel the same about me. Oddly enough, I hope so, and I also fear so. I assume anyone who finds me and reads me regularly will be nice, normal and share my sense of humor. To develop a following like Josh's (reportedly 17- to 18,000 readers — wow!) would be the greatest honor I could imagine. But I suppose in the meantime the possibility exists that I may get a visitor or two that either hates me, or becomes unusually obsessed with me. If you are someone who thinks you may be preternaturally preoccupied with me, I ask of you this: When I get a Google Ad account, could you click on every ad that shows up here? I could really use the 37¢ a month I could feasibly rake in from that.
And then maybe do the same for Josh because he was trounced in Final Jeopardy and lost with a scant $1 left after all was said and done. Sorry Josh. I was totally rooting for you.