Today is the 10-year anniversary of me blogging, and I am certain you are delighted that day is finally upon us, as you are sick to death of my shit.
I didn't plan what I was gonna say today, nor did I plan this BRILLIANT idea of Googling "byebyepie + 10," but I did think about these 10 years a lot in the context of this blog.
This started as a way to record my then-husband and me during our year of not spending any money. I know we got a down payment for our house out of it, but after re-reading during this whole, "Wow, 10 years!?" reflection, I see we'd saved TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS by APRIL! Jesus! What the hell with us! I don't even bring home $10,000 by April now.
The point is, that's how I started blogging, and I sent my first blog entry, on the hard-hitting Blogspot, to about 18 friends and family. I remember the day I figured out I was getting 30 unique visitors a day. And you wouldn't believe how many basic visitors I got. They all read me at Applebee's.
Bah. See. It was humor like that that kept 'em returning.
I kept blogging after that first year, and made friends with other bloggers–Musings of a Housewife and The Nester. (Oh my god, look how highfalutin' both their WEBSITES are, and here I still am in Typepad.) Two women I had nothing in common with–they're big fans of God–and yet I loved them both dearly. I mean, I really did. They were funny and sweet and MAN did they help me. Musings taught me how to link other sites, for heaven's sake. Nester mentioned me on her blog and 3949349402 people stampeded over that day.
I think I went from, like, 100 readers a day to 250, after that Nester boost. Mathfully, that's a bump of 900 thousand percent.
(Here we pause for June to be annoyed by how thin she was, and how Topamax stopped working for her that way, and why isn't life fair? WHY MUST LIFE PULL THE MIRACLE-PILL RUG OUT??)
Pretty soon, people were emailing me for love advice (they don't anymore, obvs) and cat advice and just writing me in general. They'd write long-winded emails about their lives, because I think it seemed like I became a friend. I was like an unattractive Jennifer Aniston.
At first, it was such a novelty, hearing from readers, that I'd tell Marvin–my ex–about it, and we'd be delighted together and so on. And then I started talking to my readers more than I did Marvin. Which is not why we got divorced, but it is telling.
I remember looking at my reader numbers and having a little test with myself. If at 3:00, I had 300 readers that day, I was cool. I highly recommend little tests like this; they are marvelous for your self-esteem. Always look outside yourself for your self-worth.
Self-Esteem Tips That Probably Are Stupid, by June.
It was when Marvin left that my already-growing numbers of readers shot up, and I promise I won't just be all JUNE'S RISE TO FAME. BY JUNE. IN A BLOG ABOUT JUNE. I'm about to get humble, I assure you.
But in the year 2011, I was getting–wow, I don't know–sometimes 4,000 readers a day? It was a lot, for me, anyway. I'd get hundreds of comments all the time, like it was nothing. I remember being at work and looking at my Gmail, and there'd always be 20 more emails to read from my blog email–those would all be comments.
It was exciting. I got gifts and emails from people and Marvin and I both got recognized out in public. Woo, it was a time. I grew genuinely fond of some readers, they became friends. I still haven't met most of them.
Then I blew it. Please see: June: Everything in her whole life.
I think it was my temper, as it always is, and my impulsiveness, as it always is.
Here are the ways I am shitty: I have a terrible temper where I fly off the handle. I make impulsive decisions I later regret. I say things I think are hilarious and end up hurting someone's feelings, going for the funny instead of thinking about being kind.
Those are m'big three. My Achilles' heels, which are not nearly as cute as my sparkly ones up there.
One day I asked everyone on this blog to tell me where they lived. Hey, here's where you're all from! That kind of thing. The next morning on my way out somewhere, I recorded hundreds of answers and hit "Publish."
So, in a hurry and then also maths. Plus geography.
I went out to lunch with the Tall Boy, I remember, and when I came back I had all sorts of fairly whiny comments. I'm SORRY, but they WERE.
JOOOOOON! You didn't mention my state!
I'm from Ucatabwah and you didn't mention it!
JOOOOOOOOOON! You added wrong! I sat here all morning and added them myself and see you said 14 people are from Hoodehoochville and it's 15!
So here's what I did. Here's my stellar, mature response and I want you to know I'm WORLDS different now.
I pulled the post.
I just yanked it down, in a huff, the way my grandmother would have, and went about my day haughtily. FINE, then. You know I'm in big trouble when I say to myself, "FINE, then." Something impulsive this way comes.
My numbers have never been as big since. Well, I say that, but I don't really know that. Sitemeter went crazy on the hair-oyn and left town years ago, Google Analytics made itself way harder than it needs to be, so I…yanked myself off it it in an impulsive huff. (Shut up.) So now I don't even know how many people read me, and really, who cares? Asks the woman who just went on about it for 90 paragraphs.
But here's what I learned. I learned that people will come and go. They will get over you faster than a Wacky Wall Walker. And you have to treasure the ones who stay around, even when you are not charming. Those are the people who matter.
So, thank you to the ones who've stuck around for 10 years, even when I was boring that day or so full of myself that you felt barfy. Thank you for staying through dead pets and relationships and trial puppies and migraines. Thank you for staying through all the selfies and my selfishness. Thank you for watching my goddamn videos and for never saying, "June, stop dancing."
Because I will always keep dancing.
I will continue to be all the flawed things I am, and it's lovely to be loved through them by all y'all all.
Your close, personal friend whom you've never met,