I am not an A-list blogger. I don’t care, either.

I’ve always been more than just a little bit quirky and nerdy, and I still am. I don’t care. I’ve never been cool. Not then, not now. I don’t care. (much)

On my blogroll are people whose journals I read regularly. Are they A-listers? I don’t know. I don’t care, either. They are people I like, and even love, with blogs I find interesting.

Would I delete any of them, and replace them with A-list blogs? No. Why would I do that? I don’t blog to be cool. (good thing, huh.) I blog because “it’s” in me and “it” wants to get out. My blog is like a friend. It’s THERE for me. (usually.) (you know how Blogger can be sometimes.) The people on my blogroll are friends. They are THERE for me, too. They listen. They help. They laugh with me and cry with me and they are THERE.

What, they’re just internet and can’t be classified actual ‘friends?’ Wrong.

The people on my blogroll are friends. They are friends, sight unseen. And they would be friends in real life, as well. In fact, some of them ARE.

Sometimes we pick our friends and sometimes they pick us. (insert crack about picking nose here) This holds true wherever we go. The internet is a place to go. There are lovely people there. The ones I’ve found so far are on my blogroll.

Shorten it? Never. Too many blogs on it? Are you kidding?

Nobody can ever have too many friends. And I’m still discovering treasures out there. Why would I stop mining for gold just because I found some already? In fact, if anyone is reading this who isn’t on my blogroll and would like to be, tell me. I’m happy to meet you, and of COURSE you can sit with us.

Sometimes I read about a blogger going through his blogroll and weeding out anyone who isn’t considered ‘popular’ by other bloggers. Apparently, some bloggers only want to hang out with the A-group. I can only assume they were like that in high school, too. And now, still, in real life. And I find this attitude sad, and even. . . . sick.

I am not an A-list blogger. I’m often one of the first to be cut. That’s fine. Populate your list with Dooce and Wil Wheaton and see how many comments you get from them. See how much advice and support you get. See how they will get to know you personally, and want to hang out with you. And when you comment on some of those A-list blogs. . . . oh, but wait a minute. Some of those blogs don’t ALLOW comments.

Don’t you get it? REAL blogs welcome comments. Not from spammers or morons, but from real people who take notice and care. Many of those A-list blogs aren’t even real blogs any more; they’re just webpages with articles and self-promotion.

But that’s okay. You’ve a right to please yourself; we all do. So delete everybody who isn’t ‘somebody.’ And yes, I know, that would be me. Go ahead.

That’s not how I do this, but we are all different. Sometimes, discovering just HOW different, in certain ways, is more than just a little bit disillusioning.

Do we EVER get to leave high school, I mean completely? Why is this nonsense still going on, and why is it still bothering me?

But it is. And it does. I wish I could say it didn’t, but it does. It even, kinda, you know, hurts.

But that’s okay. I understand. I’ll just take my plate lunch and go sit at another table.

You sit there and wait for the cheerleaders and the jocks and the student council president, and while you’re waiting for them, the rest of us will be sitting over HERE. And we will be having way more fun than you.

But what do I know. I’m not cool.