Eat My Stats!

Did you know that in Blogland, there are wizards behind the curtain?  For example, when it came to designing this blog, I had no idea what to do, so I just picked the simplest setting, figuring that the background would be blank until I could someday have my 30-something techno-wiz friend Julie make a custom one for me.  But after I had entered my first post and clicked on "view blog," lo and behold!!  A wall of books had magically appeared as a background!  So clearly, there must be some program out there that tracks the words in your blog posts and, if it sees words like "write" and "book" and publish," designs your background accordingly.  Is this cool, or creepy?   I'm not entirely sure, but here's something else that has been boggling my mind ever since I discovered it.  So, on what I guess is my tech control panel of sorts, there is a link for "stats," and when you click it, it tells you exactly how many people have viewed your blog, today, this week, or since the dawn of time.  So I now know that in the ten days since I've started this venture, I have had exactly 36 views!  OH MY GOD!!!  I'VE GONE VIRAL!!!!  But wait; it gets better.  When you're on the stats page, there's another link that's called "audience," and when you click on that, it shows you a map to illustrate the geographical location of your myriad viewers, and also lists them  for you by country in case your map reading skills are subpar.  And as a result, I know that someone in Germany has been reading my blog!  And someone in Russia!  And, I think, someone in Alaska!  Well, it looks like Alaska to me, anyway.  It's all sort of overwhelming, to be honest.   But now that I know what a sizzling hot ticket I am, I have a favor to request.  If you like my blog, would it kill you to leave a comment?  What, are all your fingers broken?  You don't know what a sad thing it is to obsessively check your new baby blog a couple of times a day for comments, only to meet the same dreary chain of zeroes.  Please!  Drop me a line!  In your native tongue, if necessary!  Don't make me beg.  Don't you think it's bad enough that, at my age, I have to grovel before editors and agents whom I should more appropriately be dandling on my knee?  Wait - you vast audience out there.  You're not intimidated by me, are you?  Is that even possible?  If so, I will tell you a story to illustrate how unintimidating I truly am.  A couple of nights ago, I suggested something I can't now remember to my daughter beginning with "why don't you...?,"  and she smiled at me and, maybe 30% joking, replied, "Why don't you just be quiet, like, forever?"  And just as I opened my mouth to respond, she said, "It's not forever yet."  Okay?  Do I make myself clear?  NO ONE is afraid of me, and I'm getting lonely here, people!    Give me a reason to keep going!   And, even if all your fingers do happen to be broken, have a fabulous New Year!