Dude, I really need to cut my fingernails. I mean, this is getting out of hand, here. So to speak.
It�s not as though I don�t care about personal hygiene, though, you guys. I own nail clippers for the specific purpose of keeping my fingernails trimmed and neat, but they�re just so hard to operate correctly, and I never have the time to sit down and�okay, I�m a lazy sot. I�ve considered cutting my fingernails every day of the last week and just haven�t been able to muster up the energy to get it done. It�s really kind of sad (and a bit gross, too), because my nails grow at an alarmingly fast rate. I mean, I look like Fu Manchu over here, typing precariously with the very tips of my scarily long fingernails. Well, okay, they aren�t that long, but it feels that way.
Anyway, I also wanted to take this opportunity to thank those very nice people who signed my guestbook and sent me supportive emails following my dismal review at the hands of the dastardly Vanessa. It�s encouraging to know that not everyone feels the same way she does.
Although I have to say that I�m really not as upset about my poor rating as I expected I would be. The fact is that I�m somewhat insulted, but not because Vanessa didn�t like my diary. She is, of course, entitled to her opinion (even if it is totally wrong). I�m not writing this for anyone but myself, really, and I certainly understand that my writing may not be suited for everyone�s tastes. I just happened to get a reviewer whose tastes do not allow for my particular style, which is fine. The fact that she was quite obviously brain-damaged, however, is not.
See, here�s the thing: Diary Reviews advertises itself as a reviewing service, and I signed up in order to get an honest evaluation from a third party not invested in my happiness. Instead, I get this half-assed breakdown from someone who was grossly unqualified for her job. And I�m not saying all that to be a vindictive bitch, either. I mean, I am a little, but just as Vanessa is entitled to find me uninteresting, I�m entitled to find her incompetent. I mean, dude! She took points off because she �couldn�t find� my �next� and �previous� links, both of which couldn�t be more obvious if a marching band was tromping in circles around them and playing the 1812 Overture!
Also, she very plainly didn�t actually read my journal entries, opting instead to scan over them and guess at the contents. Her fragmented indictments and dismissive observations reveal this long before she admits to it, rather flippantly, with that very telling remark about only ever �catching [me] talking about who called and what I said and movies for hostage�. Which, incidentally, is so maddening on so many different levels that I just had six aneurysms in a row while typing it out. I mean, first of all that quite blatantly shows that she popped in to a few entries, skimmed down, recognized that there was dialogue, shook her head, and went back to watching Follow That Bird, or whatever else her mother lets her watch before bedtime on school nights. Secondly, it reveals that she doesn�t know what the fuck she�s talking about, since in the last month, I�ve only written two entries that feature actual telephone conversations. And we won�t even get into �movies for hostage�, except to point out that it sounds like I was offering to trade a copy of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon for my kidnapped daughter, or something.
So I�m offended by the fact that this chick does an aggressively poor job of actually reviewing my site, and yet they then feel qualified to judge me based on her shitty work. Plus which, I don�t think someone who is evidently unable write coherent sentences (or spell) should be allowed to criticize the content of anyone�s journal. I mean, let�s face it: the actual review reads like a fifth-grade book report. And I realize that I just spent an entire entry slinging mud and being petty, and pretty much doing everything I swore I�d be too mature to do, but like I said, I�m a little peeved here. Not because she didn�t like my journal, but because she didn�t even really look at it before dismissing it out of hand as a subpar effort.
Heh. Just imagine what a freaking nutcase I�d be if the review had been thorough, cogent, and still critical. I�d probably be a basket case. Fortunately, I feel her work was so inadequate as to be really inconsequential. What�s eating at me is that someone out there is reading her review of my diary and thinking, �Oh ho! This �blofeld� chap is evidently a really lousy diarist, eh what? How terribly sad for him. I wonder what it�s like to be so talentless and boring?� And my work will never speak for itself.
Abruptly shifting gears, some bird took a huge shit on our office door this morning. But, like, right square on the doorknob, too, and it splattered all over the place. And this wasn�t like a little bitty seagull dropping, either. It�s this ginormous mess, all over the front door! I�m serious. It looks like a fucking pterodactyl shit-bombed our office. It took me ten minutes to open the front door without touching the knob this morning.
My life is so hard.
Whoops. Secret�s out.
