Don’t you hate it when you read a post where someone is bitching about something in the blogosphere and you think to yourself “Oh my God they are talking about ME!” and you want to run off to your own blog and write a raving post defending your own honor - except if you do you have to be all vague and discreet because if they are NOT talking about you, you will look like an ass and if they ARE talking about you they will just pretend like they’re not - and then when you’re all vague and stuff you will get 50 emails from people saying “Oh my God who are you talking about send me the link so that I can get all up in this new blog drama!!” and you go “Ack! Ack! No! No drama! Because I am probably just being stupid and now I feel like I am in junior high and Shit! Shit! Everything anyone has ever said about me is truuuuueeeee!”?
Me too. (See, this is what I love about you. You get me, Internets. You so do.)
I’m allowing myself this raving post defending my own honor anyway.
I recently read this on a blog that I frequent:
“I don’t have a personal identity crisis every four days so people can leave a message to get me to keep my chin up. I don’t secretly hate my marriage.”
I then read this about 24 hours later in the comments of the same blog:
“I am so sick of hearing about pedicures and diets and seeing people’s chest shot and hearing about pregnancy, like the stuff you were saying in your last post, or even the occasional supposedly “profound” post with commenters parroting “what a beautiful post, Bravo”.
Yuck.”
Allow me to suspend reality for just a moment and draw you in to a little place I like to call Britt’s Crazy Ass Brain. In this special place, when I read those words, the chatter immediately went to:
“Oh my God. Did he really just say that? He’s so clearly talking about me and the fact that I am constantly having something going on that I have to puke about on my blog. The marriage crack was pretty fucking low.
Wait a minute, and now someone is pissed about my hiLARious pedicure posts? And my brilliantly “profound” posts?!?! (Because clearly, if someone is talking about a “supposedly profound post” - they must be talking about me. Because I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH AN EGO! Stop judging me!)
Why would they say that stuff about me? Why do they hate me? Why am I such a cry baby pee pee pants drama queen? Why can’t I come up with something to write that will not offend or annoy or alienate anyone in the whole wide world?!?!”
Now you know why we don’t call it “Britt’s Rational and Hugely Mature Brain.”
I tell you all that to tell you this:
I am fully aware that my response is irrational. I am also aware that whether those particular statements were directed specifically at me or not, it doesn’t change the fact that it is a common sentiment among bloggers. It is all too often that you find one of us eager to berate the quality of another’s content. Nor does it negate the fact that I really, really badly want to say this:
Fuck. Off.
It’s not a “personal identity crisis” or an attempt to get people to tell me to “keep my chin up”. It’s being 28 years old, married and having two kids. I’m not supposed to have shit all figured out just yet. There is always “something” - because at this stage in a person’s life there is Always. Something.
YAY for you that you’ve lived long enough to never question yourself anymore. YAY for you that you know exactly Who You Are and What You Believe. I guaranfuckingtee you weren’t at that point before you hit 30.
This isn’t needy or attention seeking or over dramatic or “supposedly profound”. This is what life fucking looks like when you’re still searching for your bearings in an ever changing landscape.
And another thing.
I am so sick and tired of listening to people opine about what a blogger “should” or “should not” write about. Who the fuck do you people think you are?
There is a woman who takes pictures of her dog every day. And people love it. There is another woman who goes out of her way to ensure that her blog has no teeth - and it is exactly what lots and lots of people look forward to every day. There is yet another woman who posts random thoughts as they occur to her about completely varied and random topics - sometimes blowing up my feed reader 5 times a day - and people love that too.
There are millions and millions of blogs posted every single day and it doesn’t matter one iota of a fuck if you relate to it or not. Because guess what? Someone else does.
Say you’re “not into it” if you absolutely must add your insignificant commentary to the pile - instead of just moving on to something you are “into”. But your condescension and insults and feigned superiority is nothing more than self righteous bullshit. And it’s mean.
And worse, it has the potential to discourage people from enjoying what they should be focusing on - those connections that mean so much to them. The ability to be heard. How fucking dare you insinuate that someone doesn’t have that right? That one person’s voice is any less valid than the ones you choose to listen to?
And make no mistake - I am not talking about me here. I am blessedly past the point of letting one person’s distaste for me and my style drown out the voices of support and encouragement. But there are others with less support, smaller audiences, and less confidence in their right to be themselves - and I watch them cower under your self appointed authority.
I watch them try to pass it off as humor and nonchalance when they say “heh, sorry, I do that. Oh well.” and then vanish from their own sites for days. They scurry back into the darkness and silence like children, convinced that if they can’t do it “right” they shouldn’t even bother.
And for what? Because some self important ass can’t understand why one site is more “popular” than another?
Again I say to you, Fuck. Off.
Is it too late for me to add a disclaimer to this post saying “I’m not specifically directing all of this at YOU. But.. um.. yeah. You’ve hit a nerve.”?
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I know, I know. I should have written this earlier.
Take a look around the site and see if you can guess why I didn’t. 100 points to the reader who a) reads this and b) figures it out.
I should have written this earlier because I should have given you time to prepare.
Karl and I are going head to head on Blog Talk Radio tonight.
Click here for show information and to join us at 5pm EST.
And then? Three hours later? We’ll be doing it all over again with Turnbaby.
Click here for information about the FEATURE show at 8pm EST tonight!
/half ass attempted at promotion on behalf of my generous hosts tonight.
“By the way, I’m guest hosting a radio show Sunday night.”
“Mmm Hhm. That’s nice.”
“Well, I mean an Internet show. Obviously.”
“OK. Whatever babe.”
“It might be a feature show. It’s about man bashing.”
“Oh nice, Britt. Real nice. Jeez. I mean that just figures. I can’t - ”
“I’m against man bashing, dumbass.”
“Oh. Heh. Well.”
“I have a son, you know.”
“And what about your loving husband?”
“Yeah, well, there’s still time for me to switch sides.”
Tune in to Turnbaby Talks - a BlogTalk Radio Show - on Sunday at 8pm EST. Turnbaby will be talking with Hilly and I, and all of her lovely listeners, about man bashing.
I’m still on the fence about which team I’ll be rooting for.
I’m sure you are all sick of hearing about my trip to New York City (especially if you follow me on Twitter too) - and we still have over a month of this crap to go.
But… er… I haven’t got a good excuse for talking about it again. I will, however, promise to write about something universally interesting tomorrow. Which you just know means the only thing I’m going to be able to come up with is Vaginas or Bad Cooking. Universal.
ANYway - here are the details you need to know:
I will be flying in via JetBlue on Friday June 27th. I’m staying in Midtown near Times Square and 5th Avenue - and so far someone is probably sleeping in a bathtub. We’re going to call it adventurous.
I’m in The City until late Sunday night.
The rest? Is still up in the air. I’m going to be running around like a crazy woman trying to soak up as much as I possibly can in 48 hours. That means subways and buses and walking and touristy shit and street food and museums and ferry rides and lots and lots of wandering around insisting that “I totally know where we’re going! Really!” Because that is how one sees The City, I’m sure.
I tell you all this for two reasons.
One - if you’d like to join me, please do. Whether you live in the area or have always wanted to see The Big Apple yourself, I’d love to share it with you. Please understand I am a cheap bitch and you will therefore have to endure me bitching about prices and doing absolutely insane and sometimes only slightly illegal shit to save a buck. If you’re not above slumming (and really, you’re here - aren’t you?), we’d love to have you join the Sweet Sweet Posse. You can share a cup of coffee or a meal, hit us up for late night partying, or scramble from landmark to landmark with us. The only thing you can’t do is share my hotel room - the bathtub is already taken.
If, however, you can’t make it into New York that reason because you hate cities or the economy just fucking blows right now or oh my God I am some strange girl from the Internet - that’s cool. But I want you to join me anyway. I mean, kind of. In “spirit”, so to speak.
You see, New York City has been my dream for a long, long time. And I’m making a commitment to myself to experience it, even if it’s only for two days over the last weekend of June. And I have a few really amazing people from the Internet to thank for the push I needed to just get off my ass and do it already.
Please - allow me to push you in the ass.
I mean… er… pay it forward.
Look, I know this sounds corny and cheesy and really, really hippy dippy. But if you have even the smallest twinge that there is something out there waiting for you, I want to encourage you to have it. Even if it’s in some small way. Don’t put it off anymore. Don’t make another excuse. Just… do it.
And do it the last weekend in June so you can use one of these kick ass graphics Cissa made for us.
People - I need your help.
Again.
I know. I am a needy bitch.
I will tell you that this is a technical issues (two, actually) - but please, don’t go running off just yet because you might know of someone who can help even if you can’t. We are resorting to networking here people!!!
Issue Numero Uno (God, I am so worldly.):
I get an average of three emails a day from people telling me they can’t comment here. I finally figured out that it might not be because IT departments hate me. (That would be why the entire site is blocked at many workplaces - but this guy is OK. WTF?!?!)
Apparently, when some people click on the comment section the entire site - and sometimes the entire computer - just… dies. Freezes. Locks up and goes no more!! Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to replicate this problem so I am totally lost on how to fix it.
I am just sick at the idea that there are people out there wanting to comment who can’t. What if Prada has been trying to reach me via my comments?!?!?!?!?
Anyone know where I should start looking? Or who I can pay beg plead flash for help?
Issue Numero Dos:
I am trying to find a program that will automatically generate a zoomed in/cropped thumbnail and/or display said thumnail in my sidebar as a link to a photoblog. The TRICK is - I want the thumbnail to automatically update with the most recent picture of the day.
Confused?
Bored?
Unsubscribing in droves?
Shit.
So, as you might have heard, I went to a little blogger get together called TequilaCon on Friday.
Here’s how it went down:
At about 12:45, Avitable and I boarded a plane from Orlando heading to Philadelphia. Of course, we kissed our loved ones good by from our iPhones first.
The bad thing about traveling with Avitable is he makes me buy him water. At a gazillion dollars a bottle at the fucking airport snack bar. The good thing is he’s a pretentious ass and upgraded us both to Business Class.
We landed about who cares what time o’clock and were greeted at the airport by Karl and Hello Ha Ha Narf. No, I do not have pictures of that. Why would I have taken pictures of that?
We drove through the very lovely Philadelphia to get to our very lovely Hotel La Sheraton.
Once we checked in, we had to call Hilly and explain to her that we could not come pick her up from the airport - but we would happily send a cab.
While Hilly was happily taking a cab from the airport, we found a few more bloggers who were also stuck in traffic.
By the time Hilly got to The Hotel La Sheraton, we were prepared to make it up to her welcome her.
Oh my God. I just realized I have no pictures of welcoming Hilly!
Oh. Wait.
Blah blah blah, yada yada yada, we all met up in the hotel restaurant to go out for dinner.
After spending all of someone else’s money on food and booze, we retired to the bar.
The End.
Of The First Night.
Dear Fellow TequilaCon 08 Attendees,
It was amazing to meet you. What a fucking crap load of fun you all are. Seriously. I really think we need to make this an event that happens far more frequently than once a year.
XOXO
The Crazy Blonde Chick In Yellow
Dear Sheraton Homies,
I miss you so much it hurts.
I felt just as much at home on the 10th floor of the Sheraton all weekend as I do sitting in my own kitchen right now. I can’t wait to see you all again.
Until then - remember me in your twats.
XOXO
The Crazy Blonde Bitch Kept Asking You To Make Out All Weekend
Dear Readers and Bloggers Who Weren’t in Philly This Weekend,
I hope you know, you were there in spirit. I can’t wait to share the stories and the pictures and the laughs with you once I’ve had a full night’s sleep. Because you need to know - you are part of something incredible. Even if you don’t have a name tag that says so.
XOXO
Miss Britt
Dear Bank of America,
Can we just pretend like this weekend never happened?
Please?
You have reached Miss Britt’s blog.
Unfortunately, she’s not here right now. She is terribly busy in Philadelphia trying to convince Dave2 to loosen the fuck up and get freaky with her already.
Please leave a message after the jump and she will return your comment as soon as possible.
Beep Beep Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
P.S. Husband, if you’re reading this? We are clearly just kidding about that Dave2 freaky thing. And also, please remember to clean the tub. XOXO
P.P.S She might be living posting pictures to her Flickr… if you’re into watching.
I know what you’re thinking. I do.
“Britt - you have TWO freaking contests open already that you haven’t announced winners for.”
I know.
(To those of you who were NOT thinking that because you were instead thinking “OMG I hate blog contests. Boooorrrrrinng!” Well pin a rose on your nose! Or something.)
This one is different - because I AM NOT IN CHARGE! I know. Hallelujah.
I am, however, a judge. (I know. I’m important. I can’t help it.)
Here’s what’s up for grabs: $25 Amazon gift card. And? Fame. Notoriety. The love and admiration of all of Blogaritaville. OK. That’s a lie. 78% of Blogaritaville will love and admire you. The other 22% will piss and moan about what makes you so special.
Ahem. I digress.
Here is how the contest works:
Comb through your site and find a quote or two about Motherhood.
For example:
See how I did that?
Once you’ve got them, go HERE and enter to win!
The. End.
OK, I lied. Not the end. I also have to promise that TOMORROW I will announce the actual real live winners of the last two contests.
Now, does anyone remember what those contests were??
My dear, sweet, wonderful, brilliant readers…
Have I told you how pretty you look today? And that your ass looks amazing in those pants? No? Well you do. And it does. 
Oh, and, by the way, I have a favor to ask of you.
AND IT REQUIRES NO MONEY! Not a dime this time! I swear!!
Now, back to this favor.
My dear, sweet, wonderful, brilliant reader - I have a dream. A dream that can only come true with a little bit of help from you. Well, a little more than a little bit of help. Mediocre help, really. Mediocre.
Shit. This is hard.
OK, here it is: I really want to go to BlogHer in San Francisco.
There, I said it. I know it sounds dorky and I should absolutely be too cool to want this. But? Well, we all know I’m not cool.
Did you also know I am not above groveling?
>Here is where the favor comes in<
John Wiley & Sons (that would be a publishing company) is sponsoring a BlogHero Contest. The grand prize is a free trip to BlogHer.
To be honest, winning a trip is the only way I’m getting to San Francisco this year.
And all you have to do is convince a panel of judges that I am some kind of rock star hero! See? Mediocre favor.
Oh. And. By the way. “Rock star hero” has some relatively specific pesky little guidelines. According to the good people at John Wiley & Sons, a BlogHer Hero is someone who “demonstrates Passion, Innovation, and the Ability to Inspire A Community”.
Heh. Like I said, mediocre favor.
Now, I’ve been digging around in my archives for five minutes forever in an effort to find some handy examples you could reference when demonstrating my Passion, Innovation and Ability to Inspire A Community. I may, in fact, be quite fucked.
Unless, of course, someone at John Wiley & Sons is Inspired by my Passion for Prince Sweat. And my ability to spearhead a beer fund. Which, I suppose, is totally plausible In My Own Head. (Totally unrelated aside: I wonder if sodomizing the rules of the English Language is considered innovative…)
Do you suppose I could be the first person (and therefore the innovator) to do really poorly executed Photo Essays? Surely I am the first person to struggle with homemade guacamole. Right?
ANYway. Where was I?
Ah yes - you were about to do me a favor.
Could you, if you feel so moved, run on over here and nominate me?
And. Um. Could you also maybe give your fellow Miss Britt readers some ideas in the comments section? Because seriously - this is going to take a frickin’ miracle.
Wait! No! I mean… uh…
Anything is possible if you believe! Together we can make this happen! A few minutes out of your day could change one woman’s life FOREVER!
(That was inspiring, right?)
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