As you might be able to guess from the list of blogs I read religiously and also because I think I confessed my blog addiction in a prior post, (I could go looking for it and link, but then I'd probably get side-tracked reading my own old posts, critiquing them and considering whether or not I should "improve" them at this late date.) but I read a lot of blogs. I love reading them because they give me a window into the worlds of other people who lead different lives than mine. I read blogs by moms, professional writers, ER doctors, expatriots who live in Europe, and linguists and since I am none of these things, I get to live vicariously through them. I get to try on another lifestyle and think, "I could do that." or "Good lord, who'd want to do that?" or "If only I were younger/smarter/more brave, I'd do that." (And occasionally, while reading about someone else's crazy drama, I get to feel smug and superior with my boring and yet comfy, cozy life.)
And while I love the insights and laughs I get from my internet friends (and by friends I mean someone I know by reputation who doesn't know me at all), I start to feel that my own writing pales in comparison. That subconsious nay-sayer gives me the message that my insights are dim and my wit is dull. "I can't possibly measure up!" I want to scream. But I guess in the same way that no matter how bad your own situation is, you can always find someone in worse shape than you; you are always going to be around people who are better than you at something.
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