Frustration: After admitting defeat yesterday, I wasn't in bed more than five minutes before having not one but many ideas on what to write about. Of course, I didn't immediately get up and write because I was tired and already in bed. Now that I'm awake I can't think of any of them. Goddammit.
Anger: By a show of hands, how many people remember even 10% of what they learned in high school chemistry? Biology? I dunno about you guys, but I took an algebra or pre-calc class every year and damned if I can recall more than 3 formulas, total.
How about college? Maybe if you're lucky you remember 20% of what you learned there. I'm not so lucky... with the exception of my Literature courses (which I adored) and one or two VERY notable classes, I don't recall shit about my college experiences.
Yet I can quote to you, verbatim, huge uninterrupted passages from Monty Python, Red Dwarf, and Blackadder.
I don't know which pisses me off more: that I have forgotten all of this potentially useful information, or that I spent so much time and effort in learning things that I've never used, nor ever needed to use, since graduation.
Meanwhile, I still don't know how to change the oil on my car.
Jealousy: How the fuck do some bloggers strike it big and amass huge audiences? I'm about ready to attribute it to random chance, because I've read many of the "big name" blogs and I know -- not think, not feel, but know with an ironclad certainty -- that I write as well, if not better than they do.
And it's not a case of my blog "lacking focus," either; some of them are just random opinion pieces about whatever catches their attention at the moment, and they're still pulling in big numbers.
Maybe I should just go "misanthropic bitch" route and try to offend as many people as possible. I got a huge amount of hits from the recent Canadian brouhaha, and from a quick scan of talk radio it seems like people enjoy being offended, seeing other people be offended, and feeling validated in their prejudices by agreeing with the person doing the offending that the offendees had it coming in the first place and really need to get over themselves.
I'm certain I could do it on a constant basis. I just think it wouldn't be healthy for me -- mentally, socially, emotionally -- to live my life in a constant state of venomous ire. Plus, I am a delicate flower and desperately want people to like me and tell me how great I am, not be angry with me and send nasty or threatening emails my way. I realize that criticism and dislike of my work is part of the literary "package", as it were, but choosing to offend as many people as possible just isn't my thing. I'd much rather keep being who I am -- a quirky, over-literate goth chick with a skewed perspective on life -- but to a much broader audience.
Reading that last paragraph, I think I see the problem: "goth" and "over-literate" simply don't belong in the same sentence as "broader audience." I'm too goth for the mundanes, not goth enough for the lifestylers, and no one ever struck it rich in the popular media being over-literate.
Of course, I'm sure I could increase my viewers by about a thousand percent if I posted nude pictures on my blog, but that's a line I refuse to cross.
To whom must I whore myself out just to get some decent exposure?
The Fine Print
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