Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Trouble With Scribbles

Well hello there! It's me, Ginny from Praying to Darwin, back to review, rip, rend, run down, roast....well, you get the idea. If it's a verb, and it starts with an “R”, and it's unpleasant, I'm all over it.

In my sights this time around: Scribbles.

I'm gonna level with you. First time I went there, I didn't get it.

Right there in her profile, she's using cutesy, vaguely foreign words like “ickle”. The layout is like listening to an accountant wax rhapsodic about deferred income (i e Boring as fuck. Unless you are an accountant. But even then, you should know better.) And most annoying of all, there just wasn't much to work with. Precision Grace has only been blogging for half a year. For the love of the deity of your choice, I have draft posts on my dashboard older than this chick's blog. (Oh sure, they're full of incomprehensible bon mots like “Say what you will, but in her day, Sally Struthers was one hot piece of ass”, but they're there, and waiting for their chance.)

But then.....

I submitted.

I said, “Hey, Ginny, quit being such a lazy ass, and read all 26 of those posts, if you're so pissed about the lack of material.”


Turns out “ickles” is British slang for little. That's the perfect description for what she writes here. Little stories that meander, and wind and end, and then you're left with this satisfied little feeling, and you're all like, “Hey, how did that happen?”

This snapshot of a writing class was brilliant and perfect. And this? Fuggedaboutit. I could try for a year, like really try, and not get anywhere close to that. When she started mind-melding with babies, I was just happy to be along for the ride.

She's not without her issues. The navigation is a freaking nightmare. I had to click on each month, then read through, because only the most recent post shows up on the front page, with no other option to read past it. (Or maybe I just couldn't find it. I'm awesome like that, sometimes.)

Usually, when I do this, I tell people to edit, tighten it up, cut their words in half. But in this case, I just wanted her to keep going.

To recap, it would have been an I Fucking Love You

but until you clean up the navigation issues, and maybe jazz the joint up slightly and just post more often, you little tease, you get 4 stars.


  1. See, the best is when you read someone's writing and they ask rhetorical questions and you are just fucking ITCHING to give your answer. "Think about the exact moment you knew what kind of person you wanted to be when you grow up."

    I wanted to be the type of person that always saves the day after reading The Westing Game. I wanted to be a fucking hero.

    Yep. I fucking said it. Shut up.

    And THIS:

    "My friends and family usually respond with "You are Not weird and anyway why do you care what people say!" to any passing comment on my part about the weirdness that is I.
    It's sweet and supportive and an amazing testament to people's ability to self-deceive."

    Sounds like something I would write.

  2. She didn't NOT remind me of you Rassles.

  3. I admire your fortitude Ginny. I clicked over a couple of days ago and read the cat post (well, started to read it) and oeroiufn;osp05943o8u.......however you did all the hard work and found the good stuff for me and I didn't faceplant on the keyboard again.

    So thanks!

  4. I think I love here! Now, truth be told I only read the middle 2/3's of her posts but it works.

    I love her in much the way that I love Rassles, not the Jodie Foster way.


  5. I will absolutely be reading ”itchy” again. I don't know why I am calling her ”itchy”. I just am. Itching for more perhaps. There is something tender and unassuming about her writing that drew me in and didn't make me feel like a voyeur.

  6. mongoliangirl2/18/2010 5:46 PM

    Rass is my super shero.

  7. Ginny, Thank you!

    I keep coming back to the review, reading it over and over, trying to make sure it really is my blog you were talking about. [oh, ok, slap me for being mawkish if you must]

    I don't know what else to say without sounding hopelessly soppy and, quite frankly and probably, pathetic. When I write those stories, it is with a hope that someone will read them and, maybe, get "this satisfied little feeling".
    You used the 'very words' that have always been in the back of my mind when sitting down to share a story with the world.


    And thank you readers for the kind comments. I don't get many comments on my blog and while I'd like to, it means a world to me to just know someone had read and liked something I wrote. Or even disliked (sure, my style is not to everyone's taste & I apologize to anyone who has gone over and felt cheated of their time).

    Yes, the layout is beyond shitty and the whole set up needs an overhaul - this I will tackle soon, now that I know people may be watching.

    I will also continue to post. As opposed to deleting the whole thing for lack of readership as I was about to do soon. ha! (saved by the Ginny - can I put that on as a subtitle?)


    Can I hug you now?

  8. Yes, hug her! Make the hug close long and bordering on awkward.

    Yes, very good.

    (rubs hands together creepily)

  9. Ginny? Do you wear tights? I think that would make the hug much more likely to inspire a nice dry hump.

  10. Precision Grace, don't be mawkish, because then I'LL get mawkish, and it's all just one big sloppy puddle of mawk. (Which, incidentally, would probably turn Chris on. And I have a feeling we don't want to do that.)

    Fontaine, I am tights-less. But the tights-inspired activity around here as of late makes me rethink my position on them.

  11. You are awesome like that sometimes Ginny

  12. It's hopeless. I cannot un-mawk myself!

    The hug may have been administered. There may be something about it on my blog now.

    Who can I kidnap to help me fix the design of the place? Any ideas?

  13. I played bass for the Mawkish Ginnies back in 1964 -- a Fender *Precision* bass, no less....

  14. Oh no, Precision Grace, I don't fix problems, I just point them out. It's kind of my thing, that I do.

  15. Posol'stvo the Medved, that is the kind of coincidence that keeps people protesting against the LHC. It's just not natural, ifyouknowwhatImsaying.

    That's alright Ginny, I didn't mean You, I meant someone else. A friend of a friend.
    //But not the weird uncle that always wears an overcoat, even in summer. Don't want him helping me.


Grow a pair.