How weird would You feel?

So I realized that I haven't mentioned that Vin stopped reading my blog. I can only conclude from his actions that either he thinks I suck as a writer, or he doesn't want me to have to worry that what I say may upset him. I'm not really sure which it is; I've asked him repeatedly why he stopped reading but he refuses to give me a reason. ::shrug::

Now for the weirdness. Once upon a time, Vin was married to a lady I'll call June. (In my head, I picture her as something I'll never be, so I equate her with June Cleaver. I've never met her in person, but I did see a picture of her once. Gorgeous. Made me think he 'traded-down' in the looks department, but I digress.) June and Vin have been divorced for about a year and a half or so. Vin sees June on a regular basis, as they have shared custody of their kids. As far as what Vin has told me about June, she's a pretty nice person, but that she and I are extremely different. I know, I know - get to the weirdness already. He gave her the link to my blog. Why? Why would he do this? I don't know. I can't imagine she would enjoy reading this. According to everything he's ever said about her, the two of us have about as much in common as an elephant and a lemon. He has given me the impression that she would not think highly of me for a variety of reasons - I never went to college, and I'm the type of person that has tattoos and piercings and hangs around with 'unseemly' people. So why on earth would he want to give her another reason to dislike me?? That being, of course, that what she reads here is likely to be extremely offensive to her, especially given that I talk quite a bit about sex, particularly sex with him.

I'm sure he has his reasons, I just wish I could figure out what they were. We didn't have a chance to discuss it - he called me last night when I was sleeping to tell me he gave her the link. Whatever. I'm too tired to speculate any more about it right now.

Plus, I'm slightly depressed. I would like to think that I'm writing this solely for my own benefit. Many bloggers say the same thing - that having a live journal such as this one is somewhat theraputic in nature and they don't care who reads - they're doing it for their own benefit. I guess I thought when I started this that that would be the reason I wrote, too. For my own benefit. But I have to be honest with myself. I'm an exhibitionist at heart. I want you to read me. I want you to care what I have to say. I long for your feedback and comments. What gets me slightly depressed is that almost no one reads me. Vin started a blog a couple weeks ago, and already he's had more hits to his blog in a couple weeks than I've had in over a month. Depressing. I, like many others, would like to think that what I have to say here is interesting enough for other people to want to read. Truth be told, my life and what I have to say about it are no more interesting than the average person.

Ah well. Back to convincing myself that I'm blogging for me, and that it doesn't matter if anyone reads it or not. There is some theraputic quality to it - after blogging about Jody and what a selfish biatch she can be most of the time, I felt a lot better. And being able to vent about things really does make a difference to my sanity.

Guess I won't worry about who's reading or why. Guess I'll just worry about me. After all, that's the only person I have any control over anyway, right?