Maybe it's not confidence in me -- maybe it's apathy on your part! (here I move to the second stage of being ignored: resentment) Yeah, I can see you now. Sitting at your desk with your pants partially undone (the better to let your soda-belly spread out), a big bag of the puffy cheetos behind your keyboard for easy access leaving each key covered with a thick layer of orange imitation cheesy-flavored chemical powder. You pop from blog to blog, reading but never stepping up to participate. You chuckle and frown and judge from your ergonomically-enhanced desk-throne but never put your fingers where your thoughts are. I at least hope, for the love of all that is wholey, that you're not in an office!
On the other hand, this may be an issue of confidence in yourselves. Do you, perhaps, feel that you're not qualified to chime in? That you're not smart enough, or experienced enough, or worldly enough? (You recognize where we are now, right? Yep, stage three of being ignored: sympathy) Do you think you have to be much more intelligent or impressive to share your thoughts on the matter? Do you think that you're just too, too dang something and not enough other things? Oh, my sweet baboo-a-plenties! Come to me, I will give you all a big, squooshy E-hug and pat your e-head and tell you what my great aunt Fernidad told me when I was very little and plagued with such fears:
"OK, now you're just bein' stupid. I tell ya this, you didn't get that
stupidiosity from our side of the family! Now stop bein' stupid and get me
my Marlboro's and a light beer."
...Memories... (hold on, I'm caught up in the emotion of the moment. Because "reminiscing" is the fourth stage of being ignored.)
I'm giving folks until tonight to give me the help I clearly, clearly need! (at last, the fifth and final stage of being ignored: ultimatums.) You absolutely must come through and provide me the feedback that can save me from myself! But by tonight I'll have to do something, so stay tuned for the second half of this nail-biting cliff hanger...
WILL our heroin sign up for another 3 months of "anything new from wove.com? Sigh." or "Hey, a match? Oh dang, he's a heroin-sniffing spider-breeder from Taiwan. Again."
WILL she, instead, create a new identity on "lip-mashing.com," a website who's snappy marketing slogan is "haven't had your tonsils polished this week? Come to us!" (dirty!) and who's selling points include that their stringent 3-point screening process (where 2 points are "can they prove that they're human?" and "do they have a credit card?")?
OR WILL Femtastic give up on this pursuit of wove and turn her attentions to the noble goals of cultivating her nosehair and creating the first all-cat circus?
TO BE CONTINUED...