Blogs are Ruining my Life

I didn't find out about this goddamn technology until about June. I guess I was behind the trend.

Can we first talk about the word blog? It is the epitome of ugly and directly reflects how stupid most technology-related lingo is getting. I hate buzz words. It's even ugly to say. It sounds like a skin condition .

While we're on the subject, I REALLY hate the fact that so many nouns are getting turned into verbs. I was at lunch with a Hollywood pal. I am in the middle of a heartfelt story about a childhood friend whose family was always so nice to me, and how much I would like to find her and reminisce. He interrupts me and messes up my flow to blurt out: "Have you Googled her?" Not only does this sound like some gross euphemism for doing it, but it debased my beautiful, inspiring story into some catch phrase. I was mildly offended. Think about the last time you mentioned that you were going to miss your fav TV show. Someone will very likely say, "You can just TiVo it." TiVo is a thing and not an action. A friend in Denver told me that apparently in his hood, gelato is suffering the same fate. Gelato?! Have some fucking dignity, people.

Anyway, I digress. Let's talk more about these weB Log thingies and why they're taking me on an emotional rollercoaster ride.

See, the thing is, that some blogs bring me joy. Others bring me pain. I have a good friend who recently broke up with his girlfriend. She wasn't just a normal girlfriend--she was a terror. It took him about 2 or so years to get away from her, and the final nail in their relationship coffin was him moving to another state. It was that bad. Anyway, this girl is sure that she is God's gift to the West Coast-no, God's gift to the world.

This girl has posted her profile on one of those online "Here I am, aren't I great? And if you're ever in the area, let's fuck or do drugs together" sites. She has one picture of herself on these that makes her look like some hip, edgy model. This site also allows you to post your own blogs. Hers are the reason I joined the site.

When she writes, she veils her typos and run-on sentences with a delicate layer of "Seriously, I am well-balanced and NOT a psycho." Therefore, everything is slanted in such a way that NEVER tells the real story. I know for a fact that one weekend she called her ex about 15 times in two days, and then went on her blog to explain that she was "in the fourth stage of grieving" that involves her hiding out in her room, not taking a shower, and not talking to anyone. She didn't mention that this was because the guy she had been trying to talk to 15 different times wouldn't pick up the phone. It's these kinds of things that make me smile. I think about the poor guys who will be drawn in by these halfway competent ramblings of hers, and how sorry they'll be after they fuck her.

Tonight, I just came home after seeing a movie with my good friend, The Mighty G. After great conversation and a great picture, I was all set to reenact the Saturday night ritual of turning on SNL only to immediately change the channel. I also planned on brushing my teeth, maybe drinking some tea, and then going to bed. I made the mistake of straying from the plans and checking my email. In it was the first of the 2004 Top 10 Films lists. These things are done by some of my favorite movie geek pals so we have yet another excuse to wax rhetoric about movies. As if we don't do enough of that already.

Anyway, this one was from the King of Movie Geeks, the man who enthralls and wows them all. He is also my ex-ex boyfriend. Last year, the actual email was chock full of his every thought about the films of 2003. This year, shit got all technical. My ex, everyone's favorite Luddite, sent us all a link to his blog. I clicked the link. I skimmed the list. It was safe and without surprise, for the most part. So my nosy ass, never satisfied, took a peek at his archives.

May I say right here and now that this man is a phenomenal fucking writer. It's a quality few possess, and he's got it in spades. The boy can command a pen. And so I knew that I would get some great giggles, maybe some tears, and a couple of deep insights into his life. He makes a paragraph about ABBA more intense than fucking War and Peace.

It occurred to me that maybe a blog or two might mention me. It was quite the opposite. Stories leapt from the girlfriend before me to the one after. I was mentioned nowhere. I didn't exist. I felt, as I clicked from blog to blog, that the insignificance that floats over my head these days is justified.

That book entitled, "He's Just Not that Into You" mentions that when men are interested, they persue. There is no excuse, no shyness, no fear that will keep them from hunting their prey. And as I'm reading this, I'm thinking that maybe no one that I've ever been with has ever really been that into me. I, by nature, am an aggressive lady. I do maybe a little more work at a relationship than I should. I am reminded about this guy that I have a ginormous crush on. We've been out a couple of times (in what capacity, I'm not sure). But I asked for his number and write most of the emails. And what happens? In his review of the films we saw one day, he refers to me on his site as his "friend Grae." Not, "this super cute girl I'm seeing" or "this woman who is way too good for me" or "this movie maven that I am absolutely mad about." Perhaps this is a lot to ask for from a movie review site-- but I couldn't help being disappointed. Then this whole new blog problem happens tonight, and I feel small. I feel like sucker who isn't worth writing about. No one is gushing about how cute I look in bathrobes or how witty/scathing my comments about "Beyond the Sea" were. Is nothing that I do noteworthy? Can't we ask our cyber-audiences "Where's the bread and cheese at?!"?! Anything, for Chrissake? Am I totally fucking forgettable?

One man in my life wrote a song about me. It was touching, catchy, and ridiculously hot of him.

I dumped him so I could "find myself." Everyone loses.

Tonight, this ugly Blog has thwarted what was shaping up to be a really nice night. I am haunted. I feel like a jerk. I am making huge mistakes at every turn. I would love to be mentioned as the goddess people pretend I am in this technology I despise. That's why I set up this blog for myself. Somebody's got to talk about me. Judge me if you want, but I'm just like you. Don't we all want to be the one that people remember for the rest of their lives? Don't we all want to share that one piece of information or insight that changes lives? Even if these emotional artificats only exist in this cyberspace, ruled by size limits and connection speeds, well, that's something.

Wrigley.g