To 200 And Beyond!

First thing on my agenda for the evening (or morning, depending on which part of the world you're currently inhabiting) is that - and I don't even know how I missed it because I was keeping careful track - Murphy and Me XXVI marks the 200th post for The Wandering Sagittarius.

Whoa. That's kinda cool.

200 posts for a blog that's not even been in existence for two years. I'd say that's pretty cool. A decent accomplishment. And, said blog seems to find a new follower or two every day. Heck, we're even getting comments on entries now.

In that case, a great big, tremendously important Thank You goes out to all those who clicked the follow button, or the comment one, or somehow stumbled upon the place and more or less watches uncertainly while trying to figure out if poking a sleeping dragon - or a white-haired bear - with a stick is really something you want to do.

But really, my snark is worse than my bite.

I feel kind of proud of myself for coming out of my little blogging bubble. I've started to comment on more of the blogs that I've been following for a while - nearly a year, in some cases, two - and I've noticed a couple of things.

Not all blogs have comments that go straight through to the actual blog post. Some have to be approved before they show up.

Now, I know that's user preference. I get that. I'm only incredibly dense on some days, not all of them. But...why have a comment button at all if you're going to pick and choose which you display and which you don't? If you write about a controversial topic, something that might not gel with everybody that reads your blog but is generally going to foster discussion, what good does it do to have the ability to censor the comments coming through? I'm not saying this happens, but theoretically, you could be playing only one side of the issue. And the person who sees the other side might be too scared to comment because, well, the people in the pool aren't going to like the color or style of their swimwear. Just doesn't make sense to me.

Then again, just because it doesn't make sense to me doesn't mean it doesn't make sense to someone else.

Trust me, I'm going to be the last person to tell you how to run your own blog. Mostly because I wouldn't want someone to try that on me. And, I'm not going to lie, I can see it now.

Louise, why do you have to be so damn combative on your blog? Can't you stay nice and neutral, keep both feet on one side of the line?

Erm, well...no. I can't. There are lines you shouldn't cross - those are pretty damn obvious - and lines that you can not only flirt openly with, but you can also sit there and make out with. Those are the fun ones. Generally, the first lines that you flirt with, in anything, are the ones that you can use to make a little box around yourself. It's cliched, it's probably been overused, but hey, cliches had to be made some way.

So those lines in that box? Well, call it dipping your toes in the river to test the temperature. Even if you put the smallest part of your big toenail on that line, you've still pushed it.

It's not so much like openly rebelling by dumping a catastrophic amount of tea in a harbor, but more like learning to live a little more. A little bigger. Notice that bigger doesn't mean grander. You can live big and quietly. It's a combination of what you do and how you do it.

Which, when you're translating parts of your life into a widely viewable blog for all of the internet to see, can seem really big and really loud. And twenty kinds of scary. Like life though, it's only overwhelmingly scary if you let it be that way. It's also only as awkward as you make it. That little gem I learned from both my mother and my sister in the fallout of the soccer season that never was. That was a curveball. A nasty one. But I picked myself out of the dirt, gripped the bat a little harder, and aimed for the pitcher's head on the next swing.

Didn't knock him out, but I got to first. And from there, well, it's a little more dodging and reading the situation.

I like my metaphors, if you can't tell. Though, when I start to sound like Doc from The Boondock Saints you should probably take a step back and ask if I'm still alright. Chances are I might be a little on the spastic side. That's okay; hand me some coffee or tea and shove me in the direction of the nearest writing utensil and paper.

I think what I'm trying to say is that it's been a fantastic first 200 posts, and if I was a little braver I'd pull random bits from the archives to show you how much growth is possible when you just let yourself be.

Now, I know it's late, but I'd like to make a toast. So, raise your tea cup (mug, in my case), and give a healthy, hearty salute to friends, followers, lurkers, fellow bloggers, and everyone else who has even the smallest hand in this whole crazy process, 200 in and a lot more to go. Thank you all.