Why, oh Why?

I keep wondering why this blog is having such massive potential. It started out just as a tiny diary, and perhaps an outlet because I needed to write. I could have written on an innocent Word document, but somehow all the pink in the Blog is inspirational. I like pink, nice innocent pink usually reserved for baby girls and good adult girls. But I'm no baby girl of course, it doesn't take eyeglasses to see that. I didn't even have one pink outfit as a baby, it was always white. That's what the pictures always show, blue for the boy, white for the girl. Perhaps mum thought that by donning me in white she would preserve my innocence and virginity all in one and all in white. And I will not be the judge on whether I'm innocent or not. But a 35 year old virgin, well if that were the case it would worry me sick. That wouldn't be normal. And I'm not about to play the game and say that I'm still saving myself and haven't tired myself out waiting, as a friend of mine does, when she's just been as bad as I have been. But I'm digressing, back to the blog. I can understand that some people have stumbled here accidentally, by pure coincidence. And I can also understand that some others have found their way here accidentally on purpose. And that means that they've done a massive Google search, a Yahoo search, a something else search on the world wide web. And I really ask a big why? I don't mind one bit, it's so much naughtier because sometimes I write and ramble on innocently while I'm actually targeting a person in mind. And since I know I have an audience, then, me being a performer at heart, only facilitates my writing. It also keeps me out of trouble. If someone dares so much as tread on my Diva toes I can control myself from slapping them because I know I'll get even later on in my blog. And as much as I try to keep low profile in the world, it seems that I am somehow soliciting, provoking, arousing interest. Is it that I look so funny that people actually have to Google me to see if I'm for real? Is it that I'm so way over the top that people Google me to see if I really exist? Or is it because there is a big diva oozing all out of me that I am effortlessly raising the bushy eyebrows which I would love to wax myself so that I can tear at the wax strip as violently as I think the candidate deserves? I really wonder why. And I've racked my diva brains for a long time and still can come up with no answer. It's funny sometimes, I meet perfect strangers who make references to my blog. What is funnier is that they always smile. So is this blog making me a laughing stock now? Is it a comic relief? I am not talking about the spies, I've known about the spies all along. They read becoming all the more seethingly uncomfortable with every word they read. And it makes me so glad that I also smile in the process. The spies, oh the sorry spies. Did they think I'd just lay down and die? Oh dear me, no way, I have diva fighting spirit, and I know I've disappointed the spies. And no, I'm not paranoid. No apologies. But then the vast majority of people logging onto my blog are not spies, they bear no malice, I think they're just curious. I do not ask why they keep coming here, I know why with a big grand diva smile. I just ask, how the hell did they come here in the first place? I wish they'd answer me, but I never even ask because I might embarrass them, because they might not tell the truth and because perhaps I might not like the answer. I guess it's going to be rhetorical for as long as I live. Because once you're here, you'll be back again and again and again and again. That much I'm sure. Take it from me because I'm the Diva.