It's like your Aunt Edna's ass. It goes on forever and it's just as frightening.

I'm 33-years-old, and I don't have kids. I've never really wanted them, even when I was younger, when I just assumed I'd have them in the natural course of events, because it's what you do. Like buying a house and paying taxes and getting a Kitchen Aid and going to Home Depot on Saturday mornings. I don't think I have that baby craving gene. Puppy cravings, yes. I have four dogs. But kids? I don't know, man. They straight up terrify me. It's this whole other person, dependent entirely upon you, just waiting for you to fuck up their world and ruin everything and become the person they vilify in the analyst's chair every week for $500 a pop.

At my age, though, most of my friends have children. And if they don't, they're on their way, doing the charting and vitamins and temperature checks and cervix mucus and all that jazz. And I? Am flummoxed. I try. I listen and nod and ask questions and offer never to babysit. But I'm way, way, way out of my league with the whole kids thing.

But my dogs are freaking adorable.

Sarah, the Pessimistic Bitch, is among those trying to conceive and she uses her blog to chart her experiences with infertility. It is an interesting and frustrating set of circumstances, so the drama is there.

The design is clean, uncluttered, and white. Lots of ALL CAPS going on, which is slightly annoying. Otherwise, the writing area is appropriate, as is line spacing and font size. It's not too terribly cluttered, although the little traffic thing always freaks me out -- there I am! Ack! Why do we need this? Overall, it's blah but benign. She could stand to snazz it up some with a nifty banner or some color or some personality. And maybe use Pessimistic Bitch somewhere other than just the URL. I'm assuming that's the blog title, after all.

Sarah, good job rolling up the archives, but do it by months, not weeks. And add years to the dates. It's confusing as hell otherwise. And your about info should be up where we can find it, not hanging out down there at the bottom of the page. Better yet, put it on a separate page. Tabs are your friend.

There are acres of acronyms, the definitions of which I haven't a clue. Link this somewhere prominent or create a new post with definitions for those of us without baby making on the brain.

The writing comes in fits and starts in the beginning, jumping several months, which is natural. I did the same when I started. But there's no commentary about this lapse, and that's unsettling. She just jumps right back into her narrative. How about some transition? Some back story? The story so far in the sidebar is fine, but, Sarah, since your blog is, essentially, about your progress toward pregnancy, some more background is in order. Put it on its own page.

Sarah has some funny stuff (and heartbreaking stuff) to share that is absolutely ruined by rookie writing mistakes. She's got good material, a nice voice, and a fun personality, but the blog is haphazardly written and overlong. Some of it is a total mess. I am going to go on a one-woman crusade to teach the American people how to use apostrophes. Also, paragraphs really should not go on for yards. What we have here is an engaging person with an interesting story to tell who is a lazy writer, doesn't edit, and has a propensity for rambling.

She has really nice breasticles, though.

Look, Sarah. I like you. Even though I can't relate at all to the baby thing, your story and your struggle and your self pulled me in. Imagine how much more invested a reader would be if you paid attention to grammar and spelling and didn't just fling words up there on the page as they came to you. It's possible the grammar snafus got to me this time, because I'm feeling my inner (and outer) editor hardcore. I'm itching to take my red pen (razor fine point) to your blog and eviscerate it, the crimson ink mingling with your blog's pink, wriggly vitals (whoa -- I just went somewhere scary).

I want the best for you and your family. I want you to get pregnant. And I want to follow your journey. But I don't want to do it if you're not going to take the time to make your words count, to sharpen your sentences, and polish your paragraphs. I know you love him, we all do: take a page from Xbox. Look at his crisp, succinct, evocative, crafted words. The stream of consciousness writing, irregular capitalization, random spacing, lack of punctuation, and laissez-faire attitude in general toward English usage and conventions is a glaring and distracting counterpoint to your genuinely engaging voice.

So, you get this:








with a promise for stars if you add some interest to your design and start paying attention to your writing.

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And speaking of bumping people's ratings up, Preston gets stars from me for writing a funny analysis of my review and blinging up his blog.