(There are many things that this particular post is NOT meant to be, such as: mean spirited, sour grapes, bitter or petty. The things that I ask should be read with a “no really, I’m curious, and want to know your opinion” tone of voice, not a “why the eff would you ever do something like that” tone of voice. Just something to keep in mind as you read.)

In high school, there were the popular girls. We called them preppy. There were two or three groups of them – the pretty girls who were cheerleaders or pom squad or athletes, with the jock boyfriends and the right clothes and the full social calendar, including every dance of course. We knew about their sex lives, because it was a small school and things like that were whispered during choir class. They were never considered to be slutty however, serial monogamy starting at age 14 for these girls.

While I was in the fray of high school, I was the smart girl. I was that girl who would have been really pretty if she’d had a clue about hair and makeup, and was down about 10 or 20 pounds. Oh, and who had the motivation to get ready for school every single morning, rather than throwing on something comfortable and heading out. My boy-friend (not necessarily my “boyfriend” but to even begin to explain THAT particular relationship is more than I need to get into here) was one of the cool guys (aka “The Dudes”) so I spent a lot of time with them, which brought me into the sphere of these popular girls. I never would have considered myself their friend. I thought I was rather invisible and unknown in high school.

Fast forward to a reunion (what number is *so* irrelevant.) I think I talked to every single person there. I left that night with the feeling of perhaps I’d been better liked or better known in high school than I had thought.

But back to those popular girls. Those popular girls who I wanted to know about so much, who I assumed were better than me and who I would periodically try to get them to notice me.

This is the part where I want to be sure that no one thinks I’m trying to be an ass. Here’s the part where I really am looking for alternate points of view.

Check out that paragraph in italic above again. This is comparable to how I feel about some of those A Lister bloggers out there who can make their living on their blog ad revenue. (Or at least enough of a living to finance a shoe habit.) Who may or may not have comments turned on and who may or may not ever visit my site.

Ya’ll know my blogroll point of view. So taking that – tell me – those of you who read those A Lister blogs (see me not naming names?) – Do they know your blog? Your story? Do they visit you? Email you? Comment you?

Specifically, do you blogroll them if they never know your blog, never know your story? And if you do – why?