Well that was fun yesterday—the first non-business thing I’ve ever had “published.” Or at least since college and a letter to the editor of Allure once. I don’t know how people who have real blogs like Leslie Morgan Steiner think of stuff to write about every day. I am trying to get used to writing in here more and it’s a struggle to think of what to write about—and nobody’s even reading this. To have hundreds (thousands?) of people reading my blog every day—I think I’d be a nervous wreck at all times worrying that I wouldn’t have anything to say/write about.

So last night I was skimming through all the comments on my post, marveling that so many people had read it and that it had spurred such conversation. I am not vain enough to think that my post was so special that it magically drew all those readers and inspired them to spar with each other; I know those same people read every day’s entry and then have cyber conversations via the comments section. But at any rate, it was interesting and gratifying to read the comments, especially the compliments about my writing.

I was caught off guard when, in the midst of all the serious comments—people sharing their own experiences with divorce, talking about that book, The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce (which, incidentally, was one of the books I was talking about when I said I’d poured over countless books...that particular book was one that made me keep trying to make it work for as long as I did), and generally talking amongst themselves…someone suddenly said “Not for nothing but Maggie’s kind of hot.” WTF? I sure hadn’t expected that one…but of course the preener in me was flattered. They went on to say I looked like a former cheerleader—which I suppose was supposed to have been an insult but I took as a compliment, never having been anything close to a cheerleader. Ever. The closest I ever came was trying out for Pom-Poms in 7th grade at the urging of an outgoing friend—I was painfully self-conscious and probably looked at the floor the whole time, beet-red, while I messed up the moves to Earth, Wind and Fire’s “Do you Remember?” (are you impressed that I remember what song it was?!). I remember them telling us that we couldn’t wear makeup and being horrified because, at the age of 12, I was still constantly mistaken for a boy and, as a result, wore as much makeup as a 12 year-old could get away with.

At any rate, it was sort of jarring to have the comments about my blog post turn, momentarily, to what I looked like. I guess the feminist and intellectual in me was supposed to be totally offended and outraged--here I am, my big moment in the sun, my writing skills being showcased in however minor a way, and people start talking about how I look? Of course I mostly do feel like that....but then the other, dumb-(bottle) blonde in me is like "hey now!" and batting my eyelashes about the comments.

It was funny, though--and look--it gave me something to write about.