At the risk of scaring you off...

I will admit it. Like most bloggers, I like to look at the sitemeter, which lets me know how many (if any) of you are reading the blog. I like to see how readership picks up when I write frequently and tapers off when I get lazy. It keeps me motivated.

And sometimes, while I'm there, I notice where you come from, you worldly readers, you. I mean, if the hit comes from Amman, Jordan, I know it's cousin Yorke (hi Yorke!). If it comes from Dublin, I know it's my darling friend, Aisling (hi Aisling!) And if it comes from somewhere like India or Japan, I know someone probably made a mistake or else googled something über-specific like "saenkanter" ....

In any case, this exercise provides some low-grade entertainment when I'm killing time at a client's office.

The reason for noting this is that I need to come clean on one count. Generally, I only see cities from which hits originate, though on rare occasions, I see a company server name. And generally, it means nothing to me. However, some time ago, I started seeing repeat hits from a company whose name seemed to be food-related. We'll call it Yum Marketing. And as a food writer for fun (and a marketing writer for, um, the opposite of fun), I thought, by golly, I should know more about this company. Maybe this reader is scouting me out for some fabulous food-writing opportunity, which would require me to travel the world and eat everything in my path, and pay me gazillions of dollars for writing my impressions.

As it turns out, the company is really nothing like what I imagined. I mean, it seems cool and all, just not food-related. I poked around the site anyway, 'cause I was there, and bored. Then I happened upon the company profiles, which included pictures of the small team. And of course I checked them out. That's when I started to feel like some sort of Internet double-agent, quietly lurking on a company's site trying to imagine which one of its employees likes to look at my site. It felt like when you voyeuristically look into someone's window with binoculars, only to see a similar pair of binocs staring back at you. Not that I know what that feels like, or anything.

Anyway, at this stage, my curiosity was in overdrive. Is it the guy who appears to be enjoying a croissant? The dude who likes gumballs? The one with a fauxhawk? Or maybe it's the chick who plays pool? I'll never know, I'm sure, and I think it's best that way. In fact, I don't want to know. I only wanted to come clean and say, hey whoever you are, I appreciate your regular readership. Really, I always think "Oh, look, Yum Marketer is checking in!" Now, if only you could start working for a food-related venture and recommend me for the above-mentioned position, which requires exotic travel and pays gazillions, I'd be forever grateful.

See what you can do to make it happen, mmkay?

And if not, just continue checking in–I love that I have repeat visitors and your familiar blip on the screen feels like a friend.