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[Ah, yes, dipshit. A fine word. Now where's my brandy?]
Sorry I've been away. I pride myself on not taking away from my journal writing for personal blogging (the written word is so romantic) , but I have something to say that just won't be done justice in my journal.
Let's start with that, actually. Not a well-constructed sentence, right? I have a thought: WHO CARES. Most of the people who read my meandering nonsense on this blog know that I write for Chicagoist. Well, I've fucking had it.
And if I were a parent, I would go so far as to say I've had it up to here.
I can't please everyone. Scratch that, I can't please anyone. From jerks to grammar nazis [SIC, A-HOLE!] to elitest copy editors, I've been blasted and handed my ass every day I write a post. And I'm a daily writer. I have yet to write the first lowbrow response that comes to my brain — and you know my brain, there are plenty of them — because that's not what I think blogs are supposed to be about. I think it's good to get people talking with some exaggerated, fiery bullshit because of just that — it gets people talking. I don't care if they don't agree or if they don't like me, I think to myself. This is an interesting conversation. THIS is what I want to read. Well, you know what? I've gotten nothing but bullshit from all sides for so long, and I've just gone off the deep end.
So here, to whom it may concern, is MY side of the fucking blogging - because, you see, this is my blog and I can write whatever I want in my corner of the Internet universe, sully up your ocean view and lower the property values:
a.) I am not an idiot. I write my posts within a 1 hour span that I have worked out especially for Chicagoist. I have forfeited my breaks, and I eat lunch at my desk. Forgive me if I misspell a word because, you see, the copy editor doesn't like me. Really, I can't blame him.
b.) I am not going to apologize for being irreverent. Some of the time I think that what I'm saying is right on, and sometimes it is something I think right now. Either way, what the hell is wrong with you that you don't have shit to do but criticize another person for the next 4 hours? It's one thing to disagree, it's another to say you'll "burn her house down."
c.) You are being an asshole. Not just you, and not just you. All of you. Every one. I have never, ever thought it was appropriate to go to a blog and just start spouting off my opinions as if I were god, and then end it all with a nice, "And that's why the writer will never amount to anything, because she's clearly an idiot." YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW ME. All you have to judge me on are short, semi-daily posts on a blog about Chicago. You don't know my thoughts, my feelings - NOTHING. Do you know that I've actually been accused of not liking Daley in the comments sometimes? That, if nothing else, proves that whoever the person is has never, ever, EVER met me.
d.) Who are you anyway? Gee, I'd really like to refute your opinion, but all I can see is that your name is "my two cents" and that your email is "anonymous@anonymous.com." Well, my two cents, here's mine: brave behind the keyboard, bad in the sack.
I'm not sorry, I don't thank you and you're not welcome. This has been eating away at me bit by bit for months, and I'm so fucking over it it's ridiculous. I read blogs — am I crazy to think that there should be courtesy? My biggest problem with the Internet is that you lose all inflection, emotion. When someone says something, you read it like you want to read it.
Actually, my biggest problem with the Internet is the nastiness. Am I crazy that I read stories, posts, blogs about Chicago, DAILY and they don't invoke my ire? What the hell, am I taking crazy pills or something? I read it, I digest it ... I don't know. When I comment on a site I use my name. I stand behind my words. Not only that, but I don't personally attack the writer. I realize that it is an opinion. Geez, can you imagine what the world would be like if it were just a bunch of people screaming at each other about their irrelevant opinions? It'd be like a GD Evangelical Christian rally in front of a Planned Parenthood. And, I might add, I wouldn't go to their blog and act like I was lost and then get all huffy about my opinions. For christ's sake, indeed.
If you read this and hate it, fine. I welcome all angry words, anonymous thoughts, irritated bystanders and spam about Viagra. I also welcome silence. I'm not trying to rewrite anybody's opinion. I have never had a problem with people not liking my work. I just realized, um ... about a half an hour ago that I needed to remember that I had my own place to vent my own opinions. I'm not a self-involved monster. Nor am I a great writer who thinks she's going to make it big in journalism through her daily gig at Chicagoist. I am just me. And these are my opinions.
Whew. I feel better.
[Catharsis]
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