Is sarahcrosbie.com like looking at an accident?
Before I went on mat leave, I was the editor of our paper's entertainment magazine. Every Saturday the mag contained an editor's note or column by me. Some weeks I'd reminisce about family vacations, some weeks I'd share funny family stories, some weeks I'd go on about my weight insecurities and many times I'd gush and gush and gush about how in love I am and share vignettes about trips, experiences and moments the boyfriend and I had enjoyed.
Many readers loved my column. Some of you disliked it. Others HATED it.
The folks who hated it always had the same complaint: Why do they have to read about my personal life? Why can't I just keep my experiences, thoughts, memories to myself?
And I always have the same question: If you hate what you're reading, if it upsets you, bothers you, irks you, frustrates you, annoys you, angers you, then why do you read it?
When readers e-mailed me and told me to keep my thoughts to myself, I always wanted to e-mail them back and apologize: "I'm sorry, dear reader. I must have been in a trance on Saturday morning when I apparently broke into your home, opened your magazine, handcuffed it to you, Crazy Glued your eyes open and forced you through torture – maybe spanking ? :) – to read my column. I'm sorry for forcing it down your throat. I plead temporary insanity."
I have this radical thought: If you don't like what you're reading why read it?
Blogs are always coming under fire for being full of crap. Recently, actor and musician Jared Leto made headlines when he said he hated blogs because they're unresearched and full of unnamed sources and the writing is lame-o-rama.
I wonder if there's a word yet for blog haters?
Check out the No. 1 definition for blog on urbandictionary.com:
n.
Short for weblog.
A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid, pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as "homework sucks" and "I slept until noon today." I guess people read blogs that they dislike/hate because it really is like looking at a car accident. You know you don't want to see the carnage, the guts, the gore - and, in my case, the gush - and yet you can't stop yourself because for some reason it fascinates you.Coming next time on sarahcrosbie.com: Why Pampers are superior to Huggies, the yumminess of Vanilla Almond Special K and, wait for it: Newsflash: Still happy and still in love.
Many readers loved my column. Some of you disliked it. Others HATED it.
The folks who hated it always had the same complaint: Why do they have to read about my personal life? Why can't I just keep my experiences, thoughts, memories to myself?
And I always have the same question: If you hate what you're reading, if it upsets you, bothers you, irks you, frustrates you, annoys you, angers you, then why do you read it?
When readers e-mailed me and told me to keep my thoughts to myself, I always wanted to e-mail them back and apologize: "I'm sorry, dear reader. I must have been in a trance on Saturday morning when I apparently broke into your home, opened your magazine, handcuffed it to you, Crazy Glued your eyes open and forced you through torture – maybe spanking ? :) – to read my column. I'm sorry for forcing it down your throat. I plead temporary insanity."
I have this radical thought: If you don't like what you're reading why read it?
Blogs are always coming under fire for being full of crap. Recently, actor and musician Jared Leto made headlines when he said he hated blogs because they're unresearched and full of unnamed sources and the writing is lame-o-rama.
I wonder if there's a word yet for blog haters?
Check out the No. 1 definition for blog on urbandictionary.com:
n.
Short for weblog.
A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid, pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as "homework sucks" and "I slept until noon today." I guess people read blogs that they dislike/hate because it really is like looking at a car accident. You know you don't want to see the carnage, the guts, the gore - and, in my case, the gush - and yet you can't stop yourself because for some reason it fascinates you.Coming next time on sarahcrosbie.com: Why Pampers are superior to Huggies, the yumminess of Vanilla Almond Special K and, wait for it: Newsflash: Still happy and still in love.
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