contented

So. You know. You become a blogger. You get a few comments. And that's fun. Addicting, even. You check your email for a comment on your last post. You check it again. and again. Because, why? Because it's fun to get that validation. I have watched blogs of friends and seen their comments shoot into outer-space and I think wow. How do they do that?

I have a happy little readership. I know there are more who visit than comment. And that's fine. Though I am not saying here, don't comment. Because really, I love it when you do. And I'm not saying that I hope no one new ever reads my blog, because that is entirely untrue. Or that I will never be a dot com, (which is always fun) because actually I have bellsontheirtoes.com, just for fun- I just don't have it set up yet.

But I had a little epiphany this morning as I tripped around the blogosphere checking in on a few of my favorite people and then a few others, some very well known, in the blogger world anyway:
I don't want to be famous.

So, if I never make a living off my blog, with thousands of people across the United States clamoring to meet me at some point in time, I can say, well that's just fine.


But if you like, I will be happy to send you an autographed copy of your favorite blog post of mine. For five dollars.