Bloggoty, bloggoty, blog

Doesn't that make your mouth feel good when you say that title? Oh. It does mine. But that's not what I wanted to talk about.
What I wanted to talk about is that I'm having issues.
Blog issues.
Oh, not my own so much, but other people's.
I have spoken about blog addiction before and it's worth a revisit just for the picture. You don't need to read it because I'm going to tell you what I said in it right here. What I said was that I had become addicted (and not in a good way) to a certain blog which I refused to name, but now freely admit (and this is without therapy!) was the blog of the Dooce.
God Bless the Dooce, who is right this very second just a few counties over from me, vacationing in Destin, Florida. I know this from...her blog, which I still read although not obsessively.
And no, I am not going to go stalk her, although part of me wants to and I did discuss the issue with my daughter, May, who understands because she once went to LaConner, Washington to see if she could just "run into" Tom Robbins.
Unfortunately, she didn't run into him, or perhaps fortunately, but like I say, she understood.
But no, my stalking days are over.
But this has me thinking, isn't reading other people's blogs just a little bit stalkery?
(Feel free to read that line out loud doing your best Sarah-Jessica-Parker-playing-Carrie-Bradshaw voice.)
No matter how hard I try not to, I keep finding and bookmarking new-to-me blogs and putting them in my Google Reader. I can see how if this keeps up I will soon be either blogging or reading blogs approximately 22 hours a day.
And let's face it- there is nothing on earth worth doing 22 hours a day unless you're performing healing miracles on the dying. Or giving me free foot massages, but even then, that might be excessive. I can't imagine saying, oh, that's enough free foot massaging for me, thank-you, and really meaning it, but I suppose it could happen.
So why am I doing this? Reading these blogs? And how do I find them?
Sometimes I read them because the authors read and comment on my blog. And that feels like the polite thing to do, doesn't it? I mean, I'm southern. We're polite. If you bring us some cookies then we feel obligated to bake you a cake. Then you make us a roast suckling pig dinner and then we buy you a chain of restaurants.
That's how it works here.
So I read my commenters' blogs and then sometimes they talk about other people's blogs and so I go check that out and sometimes THOSE people have like THREE blogs and next damn thing you know, my eyes won't focus, the laundry needs taking off the line and all the okra in the garden has gotten as big and hard as the Jolly Green Giant's...wooden leg! and no matter how long you cook it, it's never going to be edible and you might as well fish it out of the pot and dry it off and paint it red and white and give it to someone for a Christmas ornament but I don't have time for that because I'm reading blogs!
So I don't know. I might just have to go cold turkey on this whole blog thing.
But darn it! I want to know what's going on in people's lives! I want to know what they're thinking and what their children are up to and what their dogs are getting into and what they're wearing and....
See what I mean about the stalkery thing?
It's like observing someone's every action without being really involved and it's a bit damn weird when you think about it, even though those people are standing in front of a metaphorical window with the lights on, taking their clothes off and begging you to watch.
Which really, when you think about it, is what blogging is.
So not only is reading other people's blogs weird, but writing one is too.
I'm doubly damned.
I think I better post this shit and go out and pick some okra. Or blackberries.
At least I'll have something to blog about besides blogs.