Well, this is quite the exciting development!
I see from some of the “comments” that there’s a bit of speculation underway as to who I am and why I started this weblog. Hee hee! First of all, I’m quite flattered that you all actually give a shit. Second of all (coughDavePollardcough) you know very well what I think of The Boston Globe, so you can rest assured that I am not an undercover columnist for that particular local rag. I do like the idea of being a Harvard English professor, though, except that I know for a fact you can’t walk two feet on that campus without crashing into a Pepsi machine. So, thanks for the compliment and all, but as much as I wish it were true, I simply couldn’t exist in that environment.
Nope, if I had to choose among all the potential true Leslie-identities being bandied about here, I’d have to go with Randy’s theory - that I’m a redheaded cyborg intent on destroying all of mankind. I like that characterization. It makes me feel all deliciously evil and snarky, even if it is something of an exaggeration.
Seriously, though, I am very pleasantly surprised by all of the nice comments, emails, and feedback that I’ve gotten from people thus far. I’m not exactly a warm and fuzzy kind of gal, but knowing that someone out there cares does get me a bit misty (brushing away tear). I had no idea what to expect when I started putting my stuff up here, and I am very sensitive to criticism (and here’s hoping there’s a special little corner of hell reserved for the guy who referred to me as a “shrew” who needed “taming”), especially when it comes to my writing, so every little nice comment I get makes me very happy indeed.
Since it’s been slightly over a month since I began the blog, and since I started it without really giving you all any kind of sense as to what I’m really up to, I thought I’d pause on this sunny, right-before-the-holiday Friday morning and introduce myself to y’all right proper. So here goes.
Okay, so who are you, really?
I am exactly who I say I am. A single, 41 year-old female dot-com refugee, now a freelance copywriter, who has lived in Boston for the past 20 years or so. I have a pleasant enough life, a great family, many lovely friends (waving - hi, you guys!), a nice condo, and a pretty car. I used to be fairly well off, but since losing my second sales job in the space of a year last October and flatly refusing to change my lifestyle one iota, all I can say right now is that the concept of retirement before the age of eighty five is but a wistful dream.
Why the blog?
I got back into writing relatively late in life (well, late, that is, compared to other people who have been at it since they got out of college) and I have a lot of lost time to make up for if I want to be published before I die. Securing a rabid internet following is one way for us non-dues-payers to attract a fan base and the subsequent attention of discerning literary agents, and, since I have no HTML skills (I can’t even figure out how to make my archived pieces show up here), the blog was the only way to go. So…read me, everybody! Tell your friends to read me! Tell your friends to tell their friends who work in publishing and have clout to read me! Then tell them to call me! Thanks!
Well, why are you so bitter, anyway?
I’m not bitter. Not really. I can be quite nice when I try. I just get annoyed when everyone else in the world tells me that there’s something wrong with me because I’m not married, that my life has no meaning without children, and that because they are married with children their lives are superior to mine. No, I don’t hate men, and no, I’m not anti-marriage. But I’m not going to spend my spare time running around in a blind panic in search of a man, any man, to stave off my spinsterhood. And I don’t like women who do. It’s about time someone took the Bridget Joneses of the world and sat their asses down in a dusty classroom somewhere until they learn the following lesson: there are many, many things in life that are worse than being single. Like, say, wishing you were. Only that’s a lesson that everyone is reluctant to acknowledge. So I’m doing it for them.
Okay, but do you have to make your point in such a harsh and strident way?
If you think this shit’s harsh and strident, wait ‘til you see the print version.
Well, I think Dr. John Gray makes sense. Why do you always have to pick on him?
First of all, if you really think that then get out of my weblog. Immediately.
Now, for the rest of you: Dr. John Gray represents everything that is evil and wrong about the Relationship Industry. Dr. Gray and his ilk are cynical exploiters of the fears and insecurities of others. They make millions upon millions of dollars by fooling people - women, mostly - into believing that the antidote to loneliness is a spouse, and that there are magic-bullet blueprints to obtaining said spouse, if you will only buy this book, watch this video, attend this seminar, or whatever. That shit is snake oil and it doesn’t work. As a wise bumper-sticker author once wrote: Men are from Earth. Women are from Earth. Deal with it. If we all spent less time playing guessing games and more time just talking to one another, the world would be a happier place and maybe some people would finally realize that being alone is not the worst thing that can happen to you.
Also, you only have to read a few pages of one of Dr. Gray’s books to realize that the guy is a raving misogynist.
Yeah, but you get bent out of shape way too easily about trivial things. Why don’t you just chill out?
But then I wouldn’t have all of these funny, snarky things to say to entertain you all! Come on, ’fess up - you may hate me, but I make you chuckle in spite of yourself. Go ahead. Admit it. I won’t tell anyone.
But what about the chilll-drenn? Why do you hate the children so?
I don’t hate children. It’s not their fault their parents are raging assholes who are allowing them to grow up to be raging assholes too. What I do hate are parents who have this warped sense of entitlement that the world should bow down to them because they happened to do something any 14 year old crack whore is also capable of doing (I know that’s offensive; don’t email me). Yeah, yeah, I know raising a child properly is hard work. But that doesn’t mean that the rest of us should rearrange our lives to accommodate your children. No, I will not change my television viewing habits because you choose to leave your child in front of the t.v. unsupervised with a remote in his hand. No, I don’t think it’s okay that you bought a minivan because it’s “too hard” to fit the car seat in a Honda Civic. No, you may not bring your screaming baby into the locker room at my gym because she “gets too fussy” when she’s left at the daycare center. I know children get restless at nice restaurants. That’s why you should leave them at home and not allow them to crawl around underneath my table. Can’t get a sitter? Then stay home. Problem solved. Get the picture?
You’re just a dried up old maid who probably couldn’t get laid if you tried.
See? It’s people like you who made me start this weblog in the first place. Now run along before I write something mean about you. I’m sure you have some more ant farms to stomp on.
As for the rest of you - thanks again for all of the nice comments and emails. I’ll see you all in the blogosphere.
