Whoops, and About Audiences

I failed to notice that my last post was my 200th.  Whoops.

You know, when you learn how to write in junior high and high school, they tell you write to your audience.  Write to your audience.  Always write to your audience.

The funny thing about blogging -- and about blogging about such eclectic topics as I do -- is that it's quite likely you have a variety of audiences.  Most people I know in real life, for instance, have very little interest in my fannish endeavors, while people who come here from my website are probably more interested in my fics and vids than in my day-to-day experiences teaching.

Then, there are the people whose blogs I have commented on, who click that link and come here.  Kristina, for instance, of autismvox, has commented occasionally. 

To my knowledge, none of my family members read this blog -- and given the Drama going on now, I rather hope they don't.  But if they did, they...well, they might be interested in my Harry Potter reviews.  Very few of them actually understand what I do, and even fewer of them are interested in fandom-type things.

This was prompted when I came to the somewhat staggering realization that out of everyone who has read my rant on my family's current drama, only Amie (I love that you're commenting now, by the way) can really, truly appreciate the depths of Drama to which my family can descend, having been subjected to it on more than one occasion.

The moral of this is -- I know that for any one of you, a given percentage of my posts mean absolutely nothing to you.  All I can say is...don't feel obligated to read the ones that don't.  :-)

Current drama update:  My mother neglected to ask M if he wanted his job back, and he may either (1) not take the offer my mom wrangled (the details of which I didn't ask about, but involves staying only through October) or (2) refuse to help train his replacement.

Also for those of you who don't know M, the latter is not maliciousness.  It's just that M has the emotional intelligence of a 7 year old, and is being whiny and petulant.

Now my mother is freaked that M will make her look bad.  (1)  Duh.  (2)  Should've thought of that first.  (3)  Double duh.

Ironically, when my dad's mom was alive, this would have all been nothing.   She took drama and wank to stratospheric levels.  Until someone involved in this whole mess is yelled at for not wanting to cross a busy street against traffic, this is really minor.  I guess it's just that we're all out of practice.  ;-)