~ Guest post by Aunt Becky

This morning when my own blog somehow got a Case of The Monday’s (on Tuesday. Dumb blog doesn’t even know the days of the week.) DD offered me the use of her own blog so that I could once again fill The Internet with my pointless drivel. Because my Twitter account only allows me to say stuff in 140 characters or less which is not NEARLY enough blathering for Yours Truly, I was most pleased to do this. Plus, DD is kind of my own personal hero, so I kinda got hot and bothered thinking about posting on HER blog.

Which, because I am not clever enough to come up with a topic on my own, brings me to the topic I’d begged her to give me. Can you be honest-to-God friends with people you meet on The Internet?

It’s tricky, yo. But after thinking about it for 30 seconds as I refilled my eleventy-ninth cup of coffee I think I have my answer: yes. Even after the posts I’ve dedicated to how self-serving and self-important blogging is (put down the pitchforks, I have my own blog, so what does that say about me?), I can honestly say that I have met a handful of people I would actually call my friends.

Back in January and February when my daughter was born with a part of her brain hanging jauntily out of the back of her head, a condition called an encephalocele that we weren’t aware she had, I took to my blog. Somehow the act of writing down my feelings and putting them into a cohesive form rather than the scattered bits of worry floating around my head made things ever slightly better. And The Internet, prayed for me, with me, and around me when I needed them. 

In some tangible way that I’d not expected, having the collective prayers of people from The Internet made having to put my newborn through brain surgery was made slightly easier. Many times, the people in the computer were more present for me than the friends I’ve made outside of the computer. And because I was able to pull my feelings into a readable (okay, that’s debatable) format, many of the people who know my blog were able to tap into the real me. They didn’t have to see my frazzled hair or blood-shot eyes, they didn’t have to come over and witness for themselves the balls of dog hair floating about my house to know who I am.

The blogs with whom I have personally connected are of the same ilk. Maybe they don’t sit around talking about deep and meaningful stuff (preferably they don’t) but on some level I can relate to their owner. Maybe they make me laugh, maybe they make me think, maybe they just make me like them. And in some way, I feel like I know them.

I’m not saying that everything that The Internet says is true. God knows that everyone has left the worst parts of our personalities (let’s hope) out of their blogs. I mean, I hate to tell you this, but my waist is not ACTUALLY 24 inches. Hell, it’s even possible that my favorite bloggers are simply PRETENDING to be who they say they are when they are really midget transsexuals living in Decatur. But it’s possible that the friends outside of the computer I’ve had for 15 years are actual midget transsexuals living in Decatur too. Maybe they just hide it really well.

Stranger things have happened. 

What do YOU think, DD’s Internet?


What if I told you I’m retiring from blogging?

I’m not. I just wanted to get your commenting juices flowing. You’d have to cut off my fingers to get me to stop blogging. Then you’d have to remove all pencils with eraser heads on them because I swear I would tap out a post, letter by letter, by holding one in my mouth.

What if I told you I’m pregnant au natural?

I’m not. I just wanted to get your blood pumping, whether in excitement or anger. And pregnant naturally?? HAHAHAHA ***wiping jovial tears away***! You guppy.

What if I told you that the daycare dropped ZGirl on her head…again?

They didn’t. I just wanted to make sure you’re paying attention. Still looking for a replacement though so that whole lightning doesn’t strike twice thing doesn’t help me much.

So, do I have your attention? Good. You’ll need it for later.

Now . . . run along.