I've only received three emails since
my site's been online. Virginia thinks that it's got something
to do with a bad link, so she'll have a look at it when
she's got the time. She's snowed
under at the moment, so she hasn't had chance to
read my diary. In any case, she doesn't really want
to make me feel awkward. As it happens, I'm quite glad not
to be too much on show. The people that
end up on my site are just those that
have got lost on the web. The first person
to write to me was some French guy
who advised me to read the confessions of
the Swiss philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who was the first to
lay himself bare for everyone to see. That was
three centuries ago, so I suppose there's
nothing new about my idea.
The
second person to write was an Italian working
in a restaurant in Oxford. He wished me good luck
on the road to sainthood, but recommended that I try out
in a different sport.
Finally,
an elderly lady of almost 80 living
in Oxford who
thought I was such a sweetie. She asked me
if I was eating properly and
was keen to meet me in the flesh. So did
the Italian, come to think of it. She
even sent me a photo.
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