What do you make of that?

"You've got fans" Walsh said to me while we were hanging around the bakery. 

He was on his way home from picking up the kids from a play date, and I was on my way home from mother's.

"I do? Really? Huh. And all this time I thought I had a bunch of guys in the industry reading me laughing and trying not to splatter their coffee on the computer screens when they do. They love me most the time."

Walsh-: "You don't think you have fans?"

Me-: "Okay maybe a few. But I don't get any letters, no comments. And the few I have gotten over the last few years have been fans of the guys I write about asking me what The Other Guy uses in his hair and can I please post more photos of The Other Guy.  that sort of thing.  No one reads me for me, they read me to know about The Celebrity and The Other Guy. Hell The Celebrity and The Other Guy read me to know about The Celebrity and The Other Guy.  It's pure food chain here.  Them at the top, me under the bottom rung."   I knocked over a half a display of hot dog buns from having flung my arms about.  I have to stop talking with my hands so much.

Walsh-: "I beg to differ. The whole sub-internet industry; didn't you say you were the first doing this?"

Me-:"To the best of my knowledge yeah. To the extent I was doing it, at my height of it, yeah.  The first Woman anyway." I bent to pick up the rest of the display that had fallen when I picked up the first two packs. "Sub-internet industry?  What we talking in code now?"

Walsh-: "You know what I mean. The internet blogging. That's something to be proud of."

Me-: "You know what though, since I made the comment I did while back about how I do not feel TOG is my Mr. Scratchy,  my ratings, hits, stats whatever you want to call them on the blog,  have gone down by half.  HALF! "

Walsh raised an eyebrow at me giggling as his youngest started to count out a handful of candy.  Two for her dad, four for her and none for me because I don't eat meat and they were little candies shaped like T-bone steaks.  Just my luck that the kid listens to stuff we talk about.

Walsh-: "Huh? Maybe there is more here then you want to believe.  You know I still think you should email them. Can't hurt." 

Me-: "Nope. I can't. No way to email them now.  All I had was a Myspace for them, but not any more."

Walsh-: "Huh. I still say there is something here you're not filling me in on. And since you asked me what I think about everything,  I think you need to go back to doing the wrestling reviews again."

Me-: "It lost it's shine for me.  Besides I was sort of  bad at it. And no one bothered to ever let me know for like a year. Never once did any of them shoot me a comment or an email saying that I called something wrong or how to properly spell something." 

Walsh-: "And if they had you would have gotten pissed off about it.  Darling, you're not going to win because you keep putting yourself down. I know you don't want to hear it but I'm just telling you the truth and it's what Grandma would have said if she were still alive."

Me-: "You did not just pull that on me!"

Walsh-: "And as much as I hate to say it, you were better at it then you think you were. Stop listening to auntie.  Auntie has her head up her butt. You're the one who is always going on about signs and omens and all that kind of stuff consider this a sign. Me, telling you to get off your high horse."

Me-:"I just want to go away for a few years. Travel."