Feb 1, 2009

Electricity or Pies or Rainbows or Something




























It's always the people I hate the most that come back to this blog, time and time again. Oh, not YOU... but, you know, The Others. The uber-devout with their unkind, not-very-Christian emails; the narrow-minded gay-bashers, who reveal to me their Doomsday prophecies of Hell and Damnation (where I'm headed, too, apparently); the bigoted conservatives who scream about Obama the Muslim, Obama the Terrorist, as though I personally voted him into office without anyone else's help; people I've never met who've called me a negro, a whore, a heathen, a shitty parent, a sinner, a bad writer, a bad role model, a bad female; women who let me know I'm a traitor to other women--for what reasons, they won't say; wymyn who tell me I'm not pro-choice enough, who say I need a louder voice; people who give a shit about my opinion on divorce, as though my opinion really matters; men who imply, suggest, or otherwise demand I blow them, fuck them, fuck their wives, their girlfriends, or sometimes, just to fuck off; old acquaintances who feel my political, religious, or social opinions somehow affect their daily lives; family, friends, and strangers having different opinions about a piece I wrote, some feeling they have the right to demand changes or re-writes because they're unhappy about my level of honesty. And then there's the religious right-to-lifers, people who take care of their families as diligently as they insult me about my stance on abortion. Guess what? I'm not just pro-choice: I'm PRO-ABORTION. I think everyone should have at least four! Stick that in your rotting birth canals and smoke it.

This is just the tip of the blogging iceberg. Yes, I know it's part of the game, but it's wearing me down; I know this weekend was hard, but that was all my fault. I wasn't prepared for the onslaught of defensive linebacker comments, nor was I ready for the rush of hate mail awaiting me later--and for what? All so they could tell me how wrong, horrible, awful, misguided, angry, idiotic, stupid, and wrong, wrong, WRONG I was about everything, ever. These were all written in defensive, judgmental, condescending tones, letting me know how defensive, judgmental, and condescending I am--to which I respond: HELLO, MIRROR. There are so many people who come here to lurk and specifically disagree with me, or who just plain hate me. I don't need the approval of those people, but I would like them to go away. Wishful thinking? Probably. I guess I'm in the Denial stage of my blogging grief.

I didn't start this blog to be hated. I just wanted to make people laugh and have a place to practice some writing, not host a website for jerky people I would never hang out with in real life--why am I facilitating the comments and emails of people I can't fucking stand? When over half of my energy is dedicated to putting out fires because of this blog, instead of creating good content, it makes me wonder: what the fuck am I doing here? I've already asked what the fuck they're doing here, but the answer is usually 'because you're wrong and I'm here to set you right.' Take your well-meaning intentions and play out your dramatic bullshit on the people who expect it: your children. While you're in here setting me straight, they're out there, doing drugs and dating girls like me. If only you'd been more diligent in converting them, and not just Yours Truly.

I feel like I'm going in the wrong direction here. I'm truly sad about it, but not completely out of the game. I just need to re-group and start anew with some confidence. I'm a tough girl, but I can only take so much unwavering hatred from people. Sometimes I feel like the Ann Coulter of whatever the opposite of Ann Coulter is. What's on the other side of evil? Mother Teresa, or just more evil Sean Hannity?

Comments--from people I love (a big shout-out to my regular peeps) and from people I can only describe as AIDS-worthy fuckoffs (you know who you are, YES. YOU.)--are closed for now. I need to figure out how to handle this, and then handle it. Until then, I will blog about boring, vomitous things, like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Oscar nominations, my ass.