Who is Your Enigma?

All bloggers have them, right? Who is yours? Mine is someone who has supported me with kind comments and witty, often brilliant, observations of the world around us, for years now. Mine is humble, well read, knowledgeable on several subjects, and a storyteller. I sometimes suspect mine is pulling my leg and I always wonder who this person is in real life. Mine has a voice, in my head, and when I read comments they’ve posted, it’s this voice I hear and it makes me smile. I worry about mine sometimes. Do you ever worry about yours? I know it might be kind of silly to worry about someone that  you’ve never met and don’t know, but I feel like I do know this person. I feel like this person’s unique, warm energy emanates from my blog and the blogs of others.  This person’s comments are often more compelling than the blog post they were written for.

Sometimes, something happens in the real world and I think to myself, has this affected my Enigma? Is this related? It happened yesterday. I read about someone who died, someone beloved in the world of the internet, someone well known in the music world, someone politically aware, someone whose Twitter handle I am familiar with, if not the person, and, as I kept reading, this person began to sound an awful lot like my Enigma. Scary thought. I had to talk myself down from that thought. The funny thing is, my Engima most likely knows who I’m talking about, possibly even has a tale or two to share. And they’d better share it very quickly, dammit, so that I can breathe again.

Chicken out

 

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  21 comments for “Who is Your Enigma?

  1. Joanne Noragon
    February 9, 2018 at 3:01 pm

    How I know this story! I know mine is not well, and I check several places daily to see the Enigma signature. I have no idea what I will do when it is gone, except say Godspeed.

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 10, 2018 at 1:04 am

      That’s hard, Joanne, and my thought is always whether I’ll ever know? If you don’t know someone’s real name or anything about them really, except what seems to be their whole heart on their sleeve, how would you ever know what happened if one day they don’t show. And I’d want to because I’d want to pay my respects. It has me thinking about a last Blog Will & Testament just in case I’m the one who meets an untimely end.

      Like

    • February 10, 2018 at 1:05 am

      Too much? Too morbid? Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it until I’ve pressed send.

      Like

      • Joanne Noragon
        February 10, 2018 at 1:20 am

        if you’d like to, chicken, send me an email: jnoragon@gmail.com

        Like

      • Joanne Noragon
        February 10, 2018 at 1:22 am

        if you’d like to, chicken, send me an email: jnoragon@gmail.com. Been all over your site and can’t find a way to contact you personally.

        Like

      • February 11, 2018 at 6:38 pm

        Hi Joanne-I didn’t realize that. Thanks for letting me know. I just added my email to my “about” page in case someone needs to reach me. I’ll email you, as well, so that we can stay in touch in case you do end up visiting the area.

        Like

      • jenny_o
        February 10, 2018 at 1:23 am

        Just jumping in here to say NO, not too much or too morbid. I believe a lot of us get to thinking these things whenever someone goes incommunicado. I know I have.

        But your reply #2 was still very funny 🙂

        Like

  2. jenny_o
    February 9, 2018 at 6:16 pm

    I know this story, too, and it is a real concern over real people. If it’s silly, then there are a lot of us who fit the description. I do hope your Enigma signs in soon, Chickie.

    Liked by 1 person

    • February 10, 2018 at 1:01 am

      Hi Jenny. I just had an epiphany. I totally understand internet dating now:-) My blogging circle is like an online bridge club without the bridge, a book club without the books, a sleepover without the over part, and I want us all to be internet friends forever.

      Like

  3. Doug in Oakland
    February 9, 2018 at 10:22 pm

    Internet people are indeed real people, even the ones who claim to be someone or something they are not, so I sort of try to treat them that way.
    Most of the folks I care about who disappear from where I normally read them show up on Twitter.
    Then there are the whole communities I have been a part of that just fall off of the internet, and for the most part, take their inhabitants with them.
    Mine was RiloKiley,net, a message board for fans of the band Rilo Kiley, who although they put out their last new music in 2007, the board kept right on going until 2013.
    There was a real community there, and I miss many of the people I used to talk to there. The site had several sections, one of which was a place to talk about the shows you had been to recently, and recommend the good ones. It was there that a guy named Dan, who is a librarian in Palo Alto, wrote about a band with a woman lead singer/guitarist who he said put on a must-see kind of show and called themselves The Joy Formidable.
    After my stroke, I didn’t know whether I would be able to navigate crowds well enough to attend rock concerts any more, but in November of 2015, my friend Sara and I went to a winery in Sonoma and saw The Joy Formidable, and all night In was thinking of the message board, how cool it was, and how much I missed it.

    Like

    • February 10, 2018 at 12:57 am

      Hi Doug-I seem to remember you commenting on that somewhere but I can’t find the post. I remember being so happy you were able to go. Maybe it was a different concert where you had the same concern? There are blogs and people I miss, too. Some of them still blog but others don’t and I’ve lost touch. Then again, I also miss people that I worked with and knew well at the time but lost touch with later. I’m better at keeping in touch now but when I was young I moved from place to place and job to job and when I moved on, I really moved on. I didn’t keep in touch with anyone except my one Bestie, through it all, GG. The moral of this comment is that we should all stay in touch no matter what:-) Thank you for always keeping in touch with me.

      Like

      • Doug in Oakland
        February 10, 2018 at 8:35 pm

        It seems to me that the restaurants I have worked in had the closest groups of folks who all became friends at the time. Does that make sense? And no, I don’t tend to see any of them any more, which is indeed too bad.
        I find it difficult and strange to try to drag the elements of my old lives into the settings of my new lives, and in that way people who I have been close to sort of fall by the wayside.
        I still miss them, though, and think about them.

        Like

      • February 11, 2018 at 6:35 pm

        Maybe it’s hospitality thing because the friends I made bartending through the years are the friends I think of. The friends from other jobs, like the factories and the hospitals, I don’t think of so often. Except this one woman, Noreen, who worked in the same medical records office with me in the 90s. She was in her late 40s/50s to my mid-twenties, and so smart. Oh, and there was another one, too, a transcriptionist who was married and really wanted children but couldn’t have them. We went to a fortune teller together once and Maria, who was well known for her baby predicting skills in our area, told my friend that she would have children and they would be her own. I always wondered how that turned out because all the things she told me turned out as predicted, surprisingly.

        Like

  4. February 9, 2018 at 10:41 pm

    It seems strange (and yet not really at all) that we have these real bonds with people we have not met except through their words, pictures, or anecdotes. Of course, we are all real people with real issues that crop up and need handling, or healing, as the case may be. I’ve been MIA from my blog and a lot of commenting since my dad died in December. The first month or six weeks was a flurry of busy-ness and getting things done. When I’ve felt like writing anything at all, it was emotional, journal-y stuff that seemed best kept to myself in the top drawer of my bedside table. Add to that the usual seasonal affective disorder thing that’s peaking about now, the fact I’ve just discovered I’ve been living with high radon levels in my goddamn house all these years (why did I never test for this before?), and, well, that seems a pretty good excuse for radio silence. But maybe not. Maybe I’ve just got to make the effort. Anyway, thanks for the food for thought in this post. I hope your Enigma checks in soon.

    Like

    • February 10, 2018 at 12:38 am

      HI Paulette, I’m sorry for your loss and for this scary radon situation. Take all the time you need. When my dad died I wrote about it and then didn’t blog again for about a year and a half, I think. And I didn’t exit very gracefully, I just disappeared. I regret that now. The people who enveloped my in internet love after my dad’s passing are all people I remember fondly but don’t correspond with now and the fault is all mine. But enough about me! You take your time and recoup and I will be here ready to read you’re posts when you are ready to start writing. I hope I haven’t missed any, already, have I? I’ve been a little absent myself this last month. Blog post coming on that soon.

      Like

  5. February 10, 2018 at 4:41 am

    Dear Chicken, I have been passenger on the Trainride Of The Enigmas for many years, and thoroughly enjoy and value the good minds I’ve encountered, yours in particular. Since my journey began, deep in another century, I have always welcomed Valentine’s greetings as an unpossessive expression of affection –an honor I hope to share with you. Happy Valentine’s Day (or Lupercalia, whichever you prefer).

    Like

    • February 11, 2018 at 6:41 pm

      Happy Valentine’s Lupercalia Day, Geo. Or maybe LuperTine’s Day or ValenCalia Day, perhaps. I treasure your mind, also. In fact, your whole Geo-ness is a unique treasure to us all.

      Like

  6. February 16, 2018 at 4:25 pm

    It took me a minute to understand what you meant by your Enigma. To my knowledge three of my blog friends have died over the twelve years I’ve been blogging, and it floored me each time. We become really attached and the loss can be quite painful.

    Like

  7. March 10, 2018 at 9:02 pm

    I love this post too. Like you I get curious about what my blog friends are like in 3-D. I wrote a post about not just blog friends but also those people who are a consistent part of our lives in little anonymous slices every day.

    Like

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