Clinical

Several months ago, in this space, I had occasion to review the ramblings of an antipodean young lady who self-described herself as "crazy." Among her other sins, I took a bit of offense to this self label. It was inaccurate and signaled an underlying disregard for the identification of the correct descriptor. I berated her for choosing "crazy" because what she meant was "impulsive" and "impetuous." If I may quote myself, I told that young lady at the time "Real crazy and real insane is actually scary and dangerous. Not fun. Real crazy is hanging off the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge or hearing voices that aren’t there telling you to kill John Lennon."

Jacki, if you are still reading here, today's reviewee is somewhat close to the epitome of who I was talking about in that review. (Also, Jacki, if you are still reading here today, I encourage you to submit for a re-review. You have corrected your egregious sins. You would likely get a much improved review today.)

Pandora has been dealing with mental illness for years, and Confessions of a Serial Insomniac is where she records the trials and tribulations of what goes along with that.

She has a very full About Me section. Pages and pages and pages of orienting material. A glossary of terms and acronyms. A run down of who all the major players are and what her relationship to them is. Full background on what she has been able to identify as the inciting cause behind her initial breakdowns.

And let there be no question -- assuming that this is all honest and true (and there's no reason to doubt that's the case as far as I can tell), whatever mental illness she is experiencing is well earned and owned. Go through what she has and you'd likely be mentally ill as well.

Pandora generally writes clearly, yet very clinically. She conveys the facts of her mental illness very well, but only rarely seems to give real insight into what it feels like. It reads like a bit of a case study in a text book. And if the purpose of this is to serve as a record of a life or as a resource for others who are going through similar trials and tribulations, that may very well be appropriate. It wasn't what I was hoping for when I first saw the topic, and maybe that's just prurient selfishness on my part. Hard to say. But as one who's deepest experience with mental illness is a very occasional bout with Seasonal Affective Disorder and or mild depression, I wasn't able to latch onto this material the way I really wanted to.

The thing is, it seems to be something that she struggles with in her therapy sessions as well:

“OK,” Paul said, “but what did you feel?”

Not an easy question to answer.  I thought about how the way in which I’d described the incident here, but in the moment, that didn’t really seem to ‘get’ it.

So what can I say? That I'd like to see more catharsis? Feh. Easy for me to say from my comfortable house with my complete LACK of mental illness and trauma. Still, what I'm saying would probably make the individual entries a bit more compelling. The fact is, she doesn't glamorize or romanticize any of it -- she factualizes it. And perhaps that's a good thing to do. I'm not qualified to say anything about the illness part. But take a look at this, because this is more like what we're looking for here.

Okay, then. So what can she work on?

1. The entries are too long. If I were hired as her editor, the first thing I would tell her is to cut everything to 1/3 of the currrent length.
2. Lose the goddamned "Read More" links. Yeah, okay, they're probably there because the posts are so long, but I hate (hate, HATE, HATE!!!!) them. I probably didn't read as much of this as I should have partially because of that. (Partially because I have a deadline. Deal with it.)
3. Too much crap in the sidebar. At least the sidebar isn't longer than the page content. But there's still a hell of a lot going on, and the stuff I was looking for (archives) was hard to find in that haystack.
4. Reconsider the white text, black background. Although it doesn't bother me as much this time as usual because it kind of fits the subject matter, white text on a black background is hard on my eyes.

My final word of advise is going to come across as a bit condescending, maybe. I don't mean it to, but will understand why it is interpreted that way. I am trying to figure out why Pandora is writing this blog. What is the goal? Is it simply a diary of her mental illness? Is it to serve as a form of advocacy? And because that goal wasn't clear to me, it was very hard to assess whether she was successfully achieving her goal. Which is one of the key things I try to assess in these reviews. It seemed to me that she may be writing "just because" without a clear goal in mind. If that's the case, I might encourage her to find a goal for this and strive toward it. If it's NOT the case, and she has a goal, I might encourage her to identify that goal for the readers.

And that's that.

For what it's worth, I bet I know several people in real life who could have written this blog, except for the residing in Ireland part, and I like them all. So, in the end, I am willing to bet that if I were to know Pandora in real life, I'd probably consider her a friend.

Pandora's rating: One star.

High Speed Dirt

Greetings flesh bags. It's been a while, and I can't say I've missed you. Since my last review, I've gained a few hundred pounds, broken an opposable digit, and have lost all interest in blogging - reading, writing, and reviewing. The good lady hid my PS3 controller to accelerate my healing, and I haven't hunted a dim-witted herbivore in the last month. I am PISSED off and sure as hell hope I'm reviewing fuckin' Wodehouse today.

No? Fuck me and my broken claw then. "My Tumbling Thoughts to the World ...beware, here I come" (fuck, fuck, fuck) treats visitors with a list of "Amazing people who make me go on n on n on:)". I had flashbacks of karaoke nights in a basement bar, peanut shells, the overwhelming smell of urine, and asshole frats "ironically" singing Journey. And they ask me why I hate people.

When I visit a new blog, I usually page down to the bottom to get a quick look at the sidebar, template and general design. Not that I care about aesthetics, but historically speaking - crappier the sidebar, worse the content. But hey, if she has so many awards, she must be AWESOME right?

Sure, English is not your first language Suruchi, but must you make it so hard? You're a teacher, and your profile reads

I think I am wise, which makes me the unwisest of all theoretically...but rest assured, I can be what I wanna be and there's so much in me that I wanna share

If this were the first class of the course, I'd be getting ready to drop it right about now.

So what does a harebrained teacher write about? There's advice on kissing, new-age bullshit, and random thoughts no one deserves to be subjected to. It's one part emo, two part mommy blog - but complete bullshit whichever way you slice it. You yack about how you're different and how wise you are. But your writing simply can't shake off the unmistakable smell of bullshit.

I had a lot of trouble getting through your writing, and a small part of it was due to your frequent switching to Indianese. There's nothing wrong in using other languages in passing if they're translated (or obvious) and used in the proper context. But "writing" like you're "talking", and all the time at that is utter tripe. Also, you do know that writing like *this* is to *emphasize* something, and that the helpful duo (parentheses) are used to interject sentences? Right? Right? *RIGHT*? And, why in the name of Vishnu do Indians use so many ellipses? You have a full sized keyboard, and presumably a normal sized brain, what's the deal with the chat acronyms?

You don't seem to check yourself in light of your identity for all to see, but is this the best you can do? We get people who can't reach their full potential because their mothers and cube neighbors are frequent visitors, and we advise them to go anonymous just to explore their boundaries. I'd suggest the same for you, but only to spare your loved ones from the trash you churn out.

This showcases almost everything that's wrong with your writing. When you aren't stabbing grammar in the balls with a corkscrew, you get all cutesy, mix up tenses, styles of speech, overuse ellipses, use languages I don't understand. Even if I were to ignore fuckin' ALL of that, there's absolute no substance in a page long post. And for God's sake SAY FUCK WHEN YOU MEAN FUCK.

An hour at her blog, and I was down three glasses of my cigar malt but got nowhere close to finding something redeeming. To entertain myself, I began scrolling wildly, and came up with a composite post from a page of Suruchi's manure farm.

Presenting... the best post ever.

And suddenly I hear moans...
She put her fingers lovingly against the flaccid face of Sushant, the deepest of peaceful sleep spreading across his pallor.
Where men get ready to fist a loafer’s face blue if he raises so much as an eyelid at the girl on his arm...
What maximum can happen?
Come out...say as you feel...be as you are...

That got boring quick, so I substituted words in her posts to keep me going.

Between the duration when a vibrator would reach from the ground floor to his doorstep through the elevator, he said he would have written an article.

I was having an interesting conversation with a dear friend the other day when a kind of penis appeared quite conspicuously to the fore!

Fuck this shit. As bad as the writing is, there are several dozen "readers" to keep her going, and I think that's a tragedy nearly as big as this blog is.

Suruchi, get on the bus. And here's another for your "followers".



Also, since you like awards, here's one. You know where to stick it. *Your sidebar is an option*

The Future Looks Dark, Dank, and Dreary

Okay. This time it's going to work. This time I'm going to post a review schedule and it is going to go as planned. This time the preview post is not going to curse itself.




Pish Posh and Such

My Tumbling Thoughts to the World

Confessions of a Serial Insomniac


Good luck to the reviewees, because you're going to fucking need it. Oh, and Green Bay is bullshit. 

Epidemic

So, I've been selling my possessions online. Skeins of new yarn I purchased for an ill-fated knitting project. A vintage dress I wore one time in 2001 for a costume party. Etc, etc. Whatever I don't need anymore, I'm trying to get some money for it.

However in doing so, I've discovered the alarming rate of obliviousness and illiteracy in the world. These idiots email me questions all the time, and it takes all my willpower not to go caps lock on their asses.

"Will these jeans fit me? Will they be too short?"

I DON'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE. I'VE GIVEN ALL THE MEASUREMENTS OF THE FUCKING JEANS. CAN YOU READ THEM? CAN YOU MEASURE A PAIR OF JEANS THAT FIT YOU AND COMPARE THEM?

"Can you post pictures of the back of the jeans?"

THERE ARE 4 PICTURES OF THE JEANS, NUMBNUTS. YOU SEE THAT DOWN ARROW AT THE BOTTOM RIGHT OF YOUR SCREEN? CAN YOU PUSH THAT AND PAGE DOWN?

I have to deal with that shit, and then I get assigned this blog.

How many emo Indian girls have submitted their blogs here? Too many to count, people. Have they not read this site at all? Can they not see we have a tag, special just for them? Reviewing this blog is a waste of my time, which is why I've procrastinated in writing it. Part of me wants to just copy and paste any number of other reviews I've written and call it a done deal.

But, no, I can't do that, cuz it's cheating and the other reviewers will get pissed at me. So, here goes.

Aparna hasn't posted since November of last year. Which means she submitted her blog for review, and then just stopped posting. WASTE OF MY FUCKING TIME.

Strike one for you, Aparna. Strike one for you.

Her header is some shit people used to post as a MySpace comment. She switches between font colors, making the blog unreadable at times (thank God for small favors). She has a widget bar that extends halfway down the page, filled with GIFs, a Twitter box, an IM box, awards, a blogroll of about 50 and all of her post labels.

Strike two. (Please read any number of other reviews if you're uncertain why.)

Her labels are as follows:

• Chronicles of my life (18)
• Creative corner-stories and poems (22)
• Insight (13)
• Miscellaneous (14)
• Mushy bites(love and romance) (14)
• Musings (9)
• potpourri (12)
• Random thoughts (16)
• Retrospections (15)
• Reviews-Song Movies and Books (4)

which could easily be consolidated into one label call "My Personal Diary Scribblings That No One Gives a Shit About." In fact, if you go back to 2007, she actually posts her boring-ass diary for the world to see.

You know why we hate emo bloggers? It's because they think their personal dramas are special and have only happened to them. Of course! No one else has EVER had their best friend backstab them and peace out. No one else has EVER had their heart broken either!

Maybe it's because we're all just a bunch of old coots who dealt with our adolescent dramas before the dawn of blogging. We just wrote them down in an actual diary which we burned in the fireplace when we grew the fuck up, because we'd be mortified if anyone ever read our simpering, melodramatic drivel.

But nowadays, everyone posts this shit on the internet.

Anyway, strike three. You're out. Get on the fucking bus.

R2G2 and C3POmigod, Why Is There So Fucking Much Clutter?

I have just been face-fucked by the icy cock of winter, and, as such, am both chilly with shame and frigid in want of vengeance. But, truly, is there a better mindset for the act of reviewing than scrolling through some unfortunate soul’s bloggage whilst harbouring the still-crisp memory of Jack Frost raping my face? I think not; in fact, I would go so far as to say that an entirely unpleasant environmental assault is often just the kick in the pants (or fuck in the face) necessary to fully tear someone the fuck apart. That being said, fellow Askers, hear me when I say that I am severely disappointed in 2Gooeysphere (which is not the actual name of the blog, but more entertaining by a pretty substantial margin); it needs neither the kind of evisceration that would help me banish thoughts of my frozen face-fucking to the part of my brain reserved for hazy recollections, nor is it good enough to warm the chill from my cheeks. It sits on the fence, and I daresay I fucking hate fence-sitters.

Now, if given the choice between sucking out loud and writing brilliantly, most would choose the latter, surely; but if you actually want the latter, you need to fucking focus. You, g2, put a remarkable amount of work into your posts and you do so with an enthusiasm that's obvious even without your tiresome excessclamation points… but you can lick my balls sideways if you think I enjoy lurking under the monolithic shadow of that overzealous goddamned sidebar to read your shit. The posts are already little clusterbombs of plenty, what with the photoshopping and written commentary and such - fuck off with that extraneous clutter. Simplify, man; there’s not much to differentiate your header from the rest of your insane-asylum gray background, and it looks like someone threw a handful of cats at a Ouija board to determine the placement of those wholly-unnecessary flourishes that crowd the title. The overall effect of your flare on my concentration is devastating.

There is also the small matter of the 8000 mile cultural divide to reckon with, globalization be damned. When I see "I am going to Hyderabad for Diwali", I read "I am going to [action-verb involving badass eight-headed water beast] for [someone named] Diwali", not "I am going to [location] for [festival of lights]", and that right there isn’t the aforementioned cultural divide’s fault so much as it’s mine for wanting what you’re saying to be exciting. It’s not, mostly, especially when you’re rocking two-part automobile-permit scandal posts that stand outside my frame of reference or comparing Jesus to someone I‘ve never heard of. Oh, I could do some research, as you yourself did in regards to comedy, but, really, am I going to research something I’m not particularly interested in for the purposes of superficially rounding out a free blog review?

Pfft. Please.

So, where does that leave us? Well, I don’t think you should throw yourself off a cliff, but I also don’t want to read your blog anymore than I want to slapped in the genitals with a hammer, so something must be done. I’ve invested far too many intermittent moments over the last month to backhand a "meh" at you, but as much as I enjoyed both The Pigeon Fool Principle and its Implications Of sequel (if for no other reason than the titles), I fucking despised this cloying piece of fluffery, and am thus inventing a new rating:



Smarten up.

Helicopter Mom

I want to get this out of the way:  I avoid advice columns, and I avoid blogs that read like advice columns.  Blogs, to me, and to most of the reviewers on this site - are about people sharing their lives creatively, with the semblance of honesty and a penchant for story.  This means, you semantic bastards, that even a manufactured personality writes with honest vision, a fictional persona is written to feel real. 

To most of the world (I AM LOOKING AT YOU, APRIL!) blogging is about...you know what? I don't know.  I don't fucking know at all.  It's about book expose's on single parents, or being angry that you're bored, or sad that teachers don't try hard enough or impressed with your daughter's ability to feel things.  All things that are probably worth discussing, but couldn't you find some way to do this with a little more pizazz?

It's about irrelevant updates and opinion pieces, it's about pushing your transcendence into the internet because you must share what you have learned because no one has ever fucking learned it before ever.  It's step-by-step summaries that are about as interesting as filing cabinets (I went to a hotel and there was good food I met people and they were good My hotel room was good because it had stuff Lunch was good because it was food I went for a walk and it was good). It's all very straightforward and unimaginative, but I get the sense that she's just systematic hovering over everything in an effort to appear balanced.  I get it.  You are balancing your blog topics because "It's All About Balance." Very clever. 

Balance is delicate and shifting, it's a feat. I don't think it can be scheduled.  That's a regiment, not a balance. 


Right now April's writing suggests that she is the type of person who glances down and takes things at face value, and someone who is struggling to overcome her previous role as a victim by writing aggressive essays opining everything she sees without really taking the time to see things from another's perspective.  It makes sense, wanting to take control of her future without being in control for so long.  On the whole though, except for very few pieces, I'm not the biggest fan. 

And that's just because April is not my style.  And my style is the best style.  April, you are well-suited for mommyblogging because you write about things that mommybloggers care about and you aren't a bad writer.  I think your no-nonsense approach to writing is good for what you're going for.  But I like nonsense.  I like a lot of nonsense, actually, and I like individuals that light my brain on fire with nonsense and then drunkenly spray more nonsense across the screen with a fire extinguisher.  

What was so fucking delicious about your mini burger? Or is it just that the novelty of tiny food makes you giggle and tastes better because it's quaint?  Did you utilize all that business in your hotel room, or were you just glad it was there?  Details like that can turn posts from one of those End of the Year Bragging Letters (the ones your acquaintances send during the holidays with pictures of their children wearing matching sweaters or Being Spontaneous) to little glimpses of insight into someone's personality. We'll get the sense you were there instead of just hovering, passing through. 

So if I were you, because like my previous reviewee you have well over 500 posts - create a page with direct links to the best things you've written on your blog, or the best things you've written on any other parenting blog.  I would create a page that has a more in-depth profile detailing why you're blogging and what you hope to accomplish.  I am sure you will use the phrases "I hope to accomplish" and "I am blogging because" when you do this.  Move all of your personal template widgets to the left column, and keep the Blogher shit and links in another.  Consider a header image that reflects your blog.  Perhaps a woman sitting at her laptop with a cup of coffee, while two children play in the background.  That would be new.




Because you are good enough at what you want to do.

Not Quite D.O.A.

There's a scene in the 1988 movie D.O.A. in which Dennis Quaid's character regains consciousness after a rowdy night and tries to get his bearings. As he looks around at his surroundings, it becomes increasingly clear that he is not in his own home. Nor his own bed. Going from memory here, as I haven't seen that movie on over a decade (Fortunately. I don't actually recommend it unless you have a serious thing for a young Dennis Quaid or a young Meg Ryan.), it seems to me that he looks around and sees pink fluffy bunnies and shit like that. Shit that starts sending his early warning system into overload. And in his case, that warning is warranted. It seems, he is waking up in the bedroom of a young lady. A very young lady. Fortunately not twisted and sick young, but clearly too young for him.

And for some reason, my first impression of today's blog brought that scene to mind. The template is decorated just like a fourteen year old girl's bedroom. It's cute, and watercolor-y/pastel-ly with big loopy looking sans serif text. So imagine my surprise to find out that this is a blog of a male physician/med-student who describes himself as "Vampire doc" who is "67% evil."

Guess what pal. You aren't fooling anyone.

The template also includes an inane "Wibiya" bar at the bottom that provides no advantage to me, the reader, and instead presents a significant disadvantage in that it slows page loads down. A lot. Annoyingly so.

A template isn't everything. I can forgive a lot of bad decisions in the template if the execution is Very Good or better.

Which in this case, it isn't so much.

I had high hopes, based on a quick scan of a few posts. Certainly that vampire/67% evil thing had me intrigued, but then I started reading. And I learned that, while Ramanathan Kannan does have some amusing stories or insights on occasion, he frequently doesn't seem very clear on what is amusing to an outside reader as opposed to someone who was in on the joke.

And like many Saturday Night Live skits, his posts continue much longer than the content warrants. (In this example, I very much wanted to get to the heart of the matter with him, but the frequent detailed tangents derailed me. I still don't know if that was even a good story or not.)

I mean, a list of 49 things that are different from going to school back home and going to school away from home? Forty nine? This would have been significantly better had you chosen ten or fifteen and focused only on the best ones.

Too often I found myself in the middle of a post asking myself how much longer this was going to go on. And, I confess, I almost always skipped to the next, having exhausted my patience with the post at hand.

Don't get me wrong. It's not all bad. There are a few like this that I came across. And there were some that were interesting to me personally that I wished were written better so I could reach the end before getting an embolism.

In the end, I have to conclude that I like this Ramanathan guy, but I really wish his writing would be more focused and concentrated. Not this rambling on and on. I am reminded of a quote I heard once, I think attributable to Churchill. After spending an evening at a dinner party next to a rather loquacious woman, he apparently quipped something to the effect of "She talks a lot, but doesn't say anything."

Ramanathan, my advice to you: Trim the fat and say something.

That said, your potential gets one star. Live up to it, and come back to get more. If you can.

Here Comes Another One, Just Like.....

Happiness is an Internal Pursuit is the name of the blog being reviewed today. That sounds pretty deep and meaningful and shit. But you know what else is an internal pursuit? A pap smear. However, you don’t see women putting that one in their blog readers to be revisited at weekly intervals. From what I have heard, it is a once in every two years experience that is akin to having fingernails scraped down a blackboard. Except in your vagina.

So already this review has taken a review south. But I knew that when Shiner gave me my next mission, which I chose to accept. It unfortunately did not blow up in a delicate-ball-of-paper-sized explosion when I had finished with it.

Here is the bit where you realise I am a grouchy old dinosaur. Not to be confused with the hip young thang we know as Johnny Raptor. He is all up with where it is happening and whatnot. Not so much me. I still like to think of blogs in ‘book’ terms. Number one: it has to grab me on the first page. Usually someone in the book publishing process, least of all the author, will make sure that this will occur with a decent percentage of the people who have picked up the book. Unfortunately for the blog world, there is no editor to tell the blogger, ‘You know, I just think it needs a little more boom, pow, pizzazz? You picking up what I am putting down?’

Sufficed to say, the writerly stylings of Bipasha did not lure me willingly into her world. And here we come to number two on Redpen’s Good Blog list. Use correct punctuation. I am not a nitpicker – I won’t get all up in your grill if you try, and fail, to use a colon or semi-colon properly, but a capital letter at the beginning of a sentence will work wonders if you would like people other than baggy-assed jean wearing tweens with cell phones surgically attached to their fingers to read what you have to say. The ellipse, contrary to the belief of those under 18, it NOT an acceptable fill-in for any other form of punctuation; nor does it make it seem like you are soooo deep and there are so many other ideas peering out from within those little dots; ideas which your awesome intellect could not be bothered elucidating upon. But like the good Indian kid she is, having listened thoroughly to her teachers, Bipasha does manage to give the exclamation mark a good airing. Good girl!

Look, Bipasha is a compassionate woman who lives in a fascinating country. At times she tries to highlight it and I get a little bit intrigued. The problem in that scenario is that it ends being me that does all the imagination leg-work while trying desperately to ignore the abominable teen email/text speak…and FUCK ME. I really thought this chick was young. Like early 20s at the most. I seem to have been proven otherwise which disturbs me on all manners of levels. I really don’t think I can continue on. Thirty-one? Is that a typo?

I really don’t know what else to say Bipasha. You are an intelligent lady who lives in a scary and cool place. You are sweet and idealistic and I am a little bit in love with your dog Dexter. And I like you well enough. You are thoughtful and observant but fuck me if you write (in English at least, the only language in which I am fluent) like a fifteen year old - all grand ideas, a little bit of heart and terrible techno short hand.

This rating isn’t really for you. I mean, just for you, you would get a:




But for the culmination of Indian blogs with the same bloody issues I give you a:










And finally, for Shiner;









I am sorry I made you post my last four reviews. You can tell why by the bloody lay-out of this one. I also did try to think of something more 'hip' to give you but meh. I am nothing if not unoriginal and mother-lovin' lazy.

My Subscription to Psychology Today Makes Me an Expert

Readers, have you ever known someone who has some life-changing, emotionally traumatizing experience happen to them, and they never deal with it and get the help they desperately need? In my experience, these people tend to be frozen at whatever age the experience happened and fail to evolve in mental and/or emotional maturity. Does anyone know what I'm talking about?

If not, meet Violet.

Violet watched her mother die two-ish years ago. Her father is gone as well, I assume, given her blog's title. There may be a post dealing with him, but I can't be arsed to read all her posts. She has other family though, because she wrote about them during the holidays. I'm confused about why they don't know how screwed up in the head she really is.

Violet bides her time being unemployed and crashing on people's couches. To support her lifestyle, placate her daddy issues, and distract herself from dealing with her problems, she signs up for Sugar Daddy websites and meets rich, much older men. Currently, Violet has a regular boyfriend closer to her age (early 20's, I assume), who doesn't know about her desire to be a kept woman or about her meeting potential Sugar Daddies/Johns behind his back.

This girl is a fucking trainwreck and has no shame about broadcasting it for the world to see. That's one thing I'll grant her. I don't have to complain about her not opening up. She writes about her boy troubles, albeit in a very Carrie Bradshaw-wannabe fashion. She writes about dreams she's had with her mother in them, ones where she and her mother are the same age. And she does so in an intriguing and image-provoking fashion. I just wish she would write more about what's going on in her head, rather than what shenanigans her latest John has pulled.

Violet writes somewhat coherently, with somewhat correct grammar and spelling, although she avoids the shift key like she thinks she's on par with ee cummings. Any mishaps can be chalked up to typos and not editing before posting. However, there is an abundance of caps and bold and ellipses and too many youtube videos and pictures for my liking. An indication of her age, I suppose.

The feminist in me, the woman who's witnessed male friends and relatives get put through the ringer by manipulative women, the woman who's been treated like shit herself because dudes think all women are users . . .wants to hate this girl. Desperately.

But I'm here to review a blog, not put on a German accent and have my reviewees lay down on my couch so I can play Armchair Psychiatrist, even if it comes naturally to me.

Which is why I'm generously awarding Violet one star:



For actually being able to write and for laying it all out there. Sometimes.




I'll let the commenters rip into you all they like. Shagnasty Freud has some advice for you though. Your mental health is just as important as your physical health, and way more important than frivolities. Maybe consider forgoing your gym membership and weekly salon appointments and find a therapist.

Fuck.

There are people in the world who have time to write like, every f__ing day.  I have barely enough time on my hands to scratch up one post a month, having chosen a career that makes data entry look like the f___ing Superbowl.  Also, how can I expect other reviewers to finish their posts when I don't even have time to pretend I'm going to write one?

The main reason it took me so f___ing long to write this f___ing review was this: JennyMac is a mommyblogger (she would probably write a response to this that says, "NO, I am a MOM who BLOGS) who likes "cocktails" and has well over a million bajillion entries.  She also has a million bajillion fans, who would probably rush to her aid at the slightest criticism because they don't like being told they have generic taste. 

Mac, when you've been blogging long enough to have over 300 entries:  consider creating a "best of" page. Are you proud you wrote this?  Do you wish more people would read a particular entry?  Because sifting through over 500 of them is no easy task. Your header image almost fits into my screen...ahp, nope.  No it doesn't.  It leaks sideways because it's huge and full of water martinis and thin, chic, casually-leaning models. Fix it.

Whatever, Jenny Mac seems very nice and cute and should probably have her own Chuck Lorre sitcom where hilarity strikes with a stressful moving day or a naive misunderstanding, where taking the Lord's name in vain (so bad!) and covering it up quickly with a well-placed pun results in uproarious laugh tracks and stray giggles, but I'm afraid I just don't have the skill to pretend that I find that s__t funny.  It's too formulaic.  She takes small events with the idea of turning them into something bombasticly hilarious, but it's just set-up, punchline.  Set-up.  Punchline.  Set-up.  Punchline. 

Rarely does the punchline have any relevance to the set up, it's just a little snappy comeback she's proud of slapping on the end of a sentence in a random situation.  These things don't add any human quality to the mix, because she's only showing us her self-approved quirks, not hopes and blood and secrets and fear which becomes hilarious because it has to be, because if it's not funny then it's sad and sad is bad.  Ideally we want all honest knuckles and laughter...but no, that's not what JennyMac is. 

From a technical standpoint, JennyMac is nonpareil. Her spelling is impeccable, her grammar has improved greatly since the beginning of the blog (there were so many unsatisfying run-on sentences I almost quit reading it and flame-fingered her a__), she uses good words and gets her point across.  Sometimes she's super cheese, but I like that.  Sometimes.  When it works. 

For the most part, though, it reads like cartoon bubbles between disembodied Jennifer Aniston and Kate Hudson, adorable and relatable because of they are "real women" with "flaws" just like "you and me."  She tries to describe awkward and embarassing situations, but I'm never embarrassed for her.  I never get that, "Oh s__t, no f____ing way, dude.  No.  F___ing.  Way." And sometimes I feel awful. I feel awful because this made me feel nothing.  I feel awful because she doesn't want to share her fears and desires, or she has no fears and desires and I can't tell which, and I feel awful because I don't give a s__t about her fears and desires because she doesn't seem like a real person. 

But it's fine, right?  It's all fine.  JennyMac, your blog is fine, moderately enjoyable, and you seem like a nice, genuine person.  Genuinely nice people are hard to review.  Like most nice people, you claim to have a bitchy side every once in awhile but I honestly don't think you do, and that pisses me off, too, because it means you're either a liar (not nice) or delusional (most likely) and that is always frustrating.

Maybe it's because in the grand scheme of crazy and ridiculous, you aren't.  I just can't get all giggly over a walk of shame, because bitch?  I did that last night.  The only good part about that story was the note from Action Jackson, and that's just because I've put bike locks around drunk people before and it's hilarious.  Once I duct-taped two people together in a lawn chair and threw them in a river.

Don't get all butt-hurt, it wasn't a very deep river.

But one of my biggest pet peeves is getting cheated out of a good, well-deserved fuck.  What the fuck?  Just fucking say fuck, you fuck. Not saying fuck is fucking annoying as fuck.  Either you mean fuck or you mean something else, and if you mean something else THEN FUCKING SAY SOMETHING ELSE.

Fuck.




and

because I am awesome at irony.


Also?  Sorry about the wait.