I Have Grown As A Person

So I made the mistake of checking my referrer log after my last post and found a forum full of people who hate me. Or, at the very least, don't think I'm a great person. I believe one of them said I was "a portrait of a paranoid and entitled princess," because I was pissed that a tow truck broke my car on New Year's Eve. That stuff makes me laugh and I print it out and collect it in my special scrapbook, which is called "People Who Are Out To Get Me" and is covered with lace and has a picture of me on the front wearing a crown. Someone else called me "the new Pamie," a title I am more than honored to accept. And then some other poster said this:

"The girl needs to stop with the blogging, she just ain't funny. This latest link is even worse then the first. I hope she can get Santa to bring her a funny bone next Christmas. She's trying so hard to tell a funny little story but fails miserably. Well, at least these two attempts totally failed. Maybe when she's sitting with her pals who are sloshed they laugh like hyenas at these attempts of hers to be amusing but to a sober reader they just fall flat. Thud goes the dud."

and part of me was like "you know what? Fuck this blog! It's not worth it. I don't need this!" And I sat on that feeling for a while. And then I realized something really important:

I was letting someone who wrote "thud goes the dud" and thought a line about Santa giving me a funny bone for Christmas was the height of comedy influence my behavior. And that simply cannot happen.

Personally, when I don't like something I'm reading, I stop reading it and move onto something I do like. I've never felt compelled to continue reading in order to pick out quotes that will demonstrate the cause of my hatred to all or spend my time writing to the author telling them how much I hate him or her. When people write hate mail to me, I think it's awesome. I write to elicit a reaction in people. For that reaction to be so passionate, be it positive or negative, means I've written something that has an impact. I have POWER over your feelings. This, along with the tears of orphans, is what feeds my lifesource. I also enjoy knowing that other people are miserable because of me.

But this time, for whatever reason, it kind of got to me. And I think it's been getting to me for a while now, since I find myself censoring the stuff I say to make sure it all comes across the right way and I don't look like an asshole. Which does tend to make things less funny. It also makes blog entries a real pain in the ass to write, so I don't write them as often, nor do I particularly enjoy the ones I do write. Which means you, readers, are missing out. And missing out you are -- my thoughts are absolutely fascinating and not to be missed! My pals totally laugh like hyenas over all my attempts to be amusing, regardless of their state of intoxication, and you should, too. And if you don't, please make sure your email to me about it is in printer-friendly format.

But before you waste your time, know that I don't really care if you think my blog or my recaps suck. Seriously, who are you to me? I take criticism from people I know and whose work I respect. I don't really care if some random person with an internet addiction isn't laughing. I do care if I'm making random people laugh and I really dig the occasional email I get from someone who say s/he's been going through a rough time and my recaps/blog/whatever really helped him/her through it. I'm writing this blog for ME, to validate my own insignificant existence in my own mind. And I think I'm fucking awesome. Obviously I do, or else I wouldn't have a blog or live in Los Angeles in the first place. And I AM an asshole. Why put all that effort into hiding that? No more.

Now everyone cross your fingers that I'll get my own thread on that other website so I won't have to keep slogging through posts that aren't about me. Just kidding! I probably won't go back there again for the same reasons that I tend to stay away from mental hospitals. People be trippin'.