“Did you read the post I wrote yesterday about Melbourne Cup Day?” I asked my teaching buddy, Rachael this morning at a fund-raising brunch our dear friend Kyles, was graciously hosting.
“Yes Pinky, I looked at it,” she sniffed indifferently.
“So? Did you like it? Did you laugh?” I needled her, desperately hoping she’d throw me a frickin bone.
“Are you talking about the post where the horses are talking to each other?” Rachael yawned. “It was alright I suppose.”
“Alright??” I squealed indignantly. “Just alright? Did you actually read it?”
“Not really, I’m not really interested in talking horses.”
But… I’d spent hours researching it, I thought sullenly. It was my attempt to be creative, abstract... original…
“OH… so you only like the posts I write about YOU?” I hissed, suddenly remembering who I was talking to.
“Yep,” she acknowledged, as she bit delicately into an avocado and cheese croissant.
“By the way, how come you don’t get any comments on your site, Pinky? I clicked on some of those bloggers who’ve made the odd comment on your blog and they get dozens of replies.” Rachael continued cruelly, as she repetitively stabbed a toothpick into a tiny piece of pastry.
She’d struck a nerve. Bloody comments!
Now I realise I’ve written about this bugbear of mine before but I’ve finally decided to do something about it once and for all.
Many years ago, a man I was dating proved to be exceedingly poor in the communication department. What I mean to say is… he never called when he said he would.
Not being one to respect women who sit waiting by the phone like big losers, I quickly realised I was beginning to obsess about the whereabouts of my phone and anxiously jumping every time it beeped.
I’m sure many of you can relate to this ugly phenomenon.
So... I did what any other unsound of mind, irrational person would do; I removed the battery from my phone and placed it in a glass of water, thus destroying my phone and cutting off my nose to spite my face.
Knowing that I will never possess the persistence and tenacity of all the other bloggers and join up to the myriad of link-ups and whatever else they do, I’ve decided to remove the commenting facility from my blog entirely.
There are two distinct advantages to this system; firstly, I won’t know what I’m missing and will cease sobbing myself to sleep every night and secondly, the pressure will be removed from all of you guys having to create a witty response to my side-splitting, creative talent.
So anyway… thank you to Princess R. for bringing this issue to a head and thanks to the three of you who have dipped their nib from time to time (you know who you are) and made comments. You’re all most welcome to make your feelings known via Facebook or Twitter.
Unfortunately I will be unable to escape the scathing reviews from my very sweet friend, Princess Rachael, as I work in a classroom beside her every day (I’ve just been sentenced to another twelve month stint); however, I’m sure I’ll find a way to get her back some way or another.
I’m sure many of you can relate to this ugly phenomenon.
So... I did what any other unsound of mind, irrational person would do; I removed the battery from my phone and placed it in a glass of water, thus destroying my phone and cutting off my nose to spite my face.
Knowing that I will never possess the persistence and tenacity of all the other bloggers and join up to the myriad of link-ups and whatever else they do, I’ve decided to remove the commenting facility from my blog entirely.
There are two distinct advantages to this system; firstly, I won’t know what I’m missing and will cease sobbing myself to sleep every night and secondly, the pressure will be removed from all of you guys having to create a witty response to my side-splitting, creative talent.
So anyway… thank you to Princess R. for bringing this issue to a head and thanks to the three of you who have dipped their nib from time to time (you know who you are) and made comments. You’re all most welcome to make your feelings known via Facebook or Twitter.
Unfortunately I will be unable to escape the scathing reviews from my very sweet friend, Princess Rachael, as I work in a classroom beside her every day (I’ve just been sentenced to another twelve month stint); however, I’m sure I’ll find a way to get her back some way or another.
