Content Dynasty

I’ve had a bad week. I’ve been battling sickness, and I happened to have a horrible hump day (Wednesday) — everything around me just seemed to be going up in flames. As the weekend approaches, however, I’m finding myself in a better mood, but still needing a vehicle for ventilation. Please don’t internalize or personalize any of the rants that are about to come spewing out of me — I really just need to vent.

Twitter

Twitter, for those of you not using the incredibly addicting micro-blogging site, is like one big chat room with a 140 character limit for each update. The level of addiction increases as you follow and are followed by more and more people. As more people start to tweet about their lives, their locations, and general randomness, a few Twitter police have emerged from the crowd with the intention of spanking Twitter users for what they deem to be inappropriate uses of 140 characters.

I’m tired of seeing people tweet about how or how not to tweet. Twitter is still relatively new, we’re all still figuring out how to leverage the 140 characters for value, and no one has mastered what it means to be a good twitterer/tweeter/tweep etc. Take that soap box you’re standing on and use it for something meaningful. I might use my other blog to write a full post on this subject.

Men

Some of you are great, some of you think with your dicks, and some of you are just plain dicks. Here’s the problem. I think I’ve given too many men the impression that I’m bedable — an easy lay. Sorry to disappoint fellas, but a girl like me isn’t going to give up the milk for free. Realistically, after reading my post on sexpectations, you shouldn’t even want it. This milk is sour (that is a terribly poignant analogy).

There is also a handful of you who don’t know what to do with me. You’re not interested in the sex, and for some reason or another you’re completely turned off by my personality. That’s okay. We don’t have to like each other. If, however, I make an effort to send good things your way and I’ve never done anything but speak of you highly, why do you insist upon disliking me? Maybe you think I’m one big pretender, but if you do, have the decency to tell me to my face. Please, a little common courtesy is all I ask for.

Gossip

I’m usually pretty good about not spreading gossip. I like to stick to the facts. Every once in awhile, however, a really juicy piece of information crosses my path, and I can’t help but follow the grimy trail of dirt until I reach the filthy core of the secret. Lately, however, the tables have been turned. People are gossiping about me. People I trust are telling people I don’t trust things about me and/or my sex life that are either blatantly untrue or too true (hence the secret part). It goes the other way too…people I don’t trust are making up lies and passing them off as the truth. There’s only so many times in a week I want to hear, “just so you know XXXX said this about you…”.

It’s hard not to feel like I brought all of this messiness upon myself. I’m caked in mud and trying to dine at a four star restaurant, of course I’m going to draw unwanted negative attention. Perhaps the easy remedy to the problem is to lay low, or blog less, but the reality is that as more and more people find my little sex blog, the more I’m going to have to develop a thicker layer of impenetrable skin.