Everyone’s A Critic

Yesterday I was having coffee with my fabulous friend Vivi.  I blogged about him once, about a play he was in.  “Did you see the blog?” I asked him.  “I did…but I really wish it had been more about me…you mentioned me, but then you just made it about you”. (Of course I made it about me, you bitchy queen, it’s my blog). Well, what do you think of the rest of the site?  “Um…I didn’t hate it”.  “You didn’t hate it? That’s all you’ve got?”  “I mean I didn’t regret reading any of them”.


So what you are saying is I wore an adorable pink hat and a lovely brooch to the Olympics, and you don’t regret seeing me in them? Okay Vivi, maybe you are not used to the delicate feminine ego, but you’ve really got to work on your phrasings.  Here are some fun examples of how those words can cut like a knife.

Girl: “I love you”.

Guy: “Um, I don’t hate you”. 

Yea…that is not definitely not love, and it’s not really not like, it’s in this brutal purgatory, that  is the worst place ever–ambivalence.

Girl: “Last night was so amazing…did you enjoy yourself?”

Guy: “Yeah, I mean…I don’t regret sleeping with you”.

Again, in a different context, that too would be one heck of a blow–there’s a lot of things that I don’t regret having to do…but then again I do not enjoy doing it.  What I want from my readers is to enjoy each piece, and go on with their day, happy to have read the daily entry.  And maybe you just won’t be one of those people.

But this is good to know…not everyone is a fan, but everyone is a critic.

x critic

Vivi’s the kind of man that likes comic books, fantasy and fiction–surely the musings of a young woman finding pieces of herself in everything from plays, books and movies must not be his cup.  In fact, we’ve been in bookstores together and his interest in anime and “Walking Dead” comics was lost on me.


Being friends doesn’t mean you have to share interests…and you don’t have to like my blog to be my friend.  But it’s a lesson in having thicker skin…I suppose I’d rather muster up absolute loathing, rather than a disinterested shrug.  It’s that blasé vibe from an animated diva that makes me wonder what the writing is really worth.

ImageImages Courtesy of Google

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