I recently posted a link to one of my favourite dooce stories here. I've been reading dooce for about four years now, after I accidentally got sucked into a few mommy blogs when one writer I enjoyed had a kid. I've always felt a bit odd about this, being in my late teens/early twenties and (thankfully) having no children. But they are amusing. And interesting. And their kids are cute. So whatever. Stop judging me.
In case you are not as familiar with this genre as I am, dooce is their queen. She started blogging as a young single woman in L.A, got fired from her job for writing things about co-workers, got married, had a kid, had postpartum depression and became extremely popular along the way.
I knew her site got a huge amount of traffic and that its ads paid enough for her husband to quit his job. Even so, when I once read somebody's garbled rant about how much she sucks and that she makes millions of dollars I mentally rolled my eyes. There is no way she earns that much, I thought. This angry internet person has no concept of reality/finance.
And then Oprah/CNN goes and tells me that dooce.com brings in 40 000 advertising dollars a month! A MONTH!
I repeat, Good Lord!
In conclusion, expect either Rachel or I to suddenly have babies and dramatically improve our writing. Also, I am off to join a wacky religion now, so that I can later abandon it and mock it in an amusing fashion. Right now I've only got second-hand Salvation Army jokes, and I don't think they measure up to the Mormon goldmine.