megfowler.com

Some people wonder and email me — not always nicely, mind you, which I always thought was weird, because you could always just stop reading and save yourself some angst — why I don’t write about certain things on my blog or address certain areas of my life. They want to know why I write the way I do, about the things I do.

And I get this from people who have just started reading me AND people who have been reading me a long time. At least once or twice a week.

Apparently, as a single girl blogger without children, I should a) be blogging about all my hot dates and my wild sex life; b) be talking about getting drunk a lot; and c) be slagging on all my ex-boyfriends so they can Google themselves and feel like utter slime.

And apparently, as a blogger with a social conscience, I should be a) blogging about my political views at length; b) establishing who I would vote for, and exactly why; and c) posting endless links to posts on other blogs about politics.

And wait! There’s more!

“Why do you write so many posts? Do you wonder why people comment on some and not on others? Does it bother you to write something really long and no one comments?” (Respective answers: I just do; I have no idea; Yes, sometimes!)

“Why are you so happy all the time?” (What?)

“Why are you so sad?” (Hahahaha!)

“Is Meg your real name?” (WHAT?)

“Are you actually sick?” (Did you actually just ASK that?)

“Why is it so important to you to have a baby?” (I need something to sell on the black market!)

“Is that actually a picture of you?” (No, I stalk this girl and take her picture all the time. She doesn’t seem to notice.)

“Do you want to see a picture of my penis?” (Uh. You already sent one. I forwarded it to all my friends.)

So here it is, once and for all:

A) My family (MY ENTIRE FAMILY), old and new friends, men I might be interested in dating, my current co-workers, clients at my current job that Google me, my former employers, and my freelancing contacts — and heaven knows who else — all read this blog.

If you’re the kind of person who would go up to everyone you know and announce intimate details about your relationships, then I have to say: more power to you on one hand, and on the other hand, HOLY COW, YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE PEOPLE FEEL AWKWARD, DONCHA?

I can’t imagine subjecting anyone I was trying to develop a tenuous romantic connection with or had just ENDED a romantic connection with to the scrutiny of the web AND all my friends and family. I just can’t. If that makes me a chicken, so be it. Bawk bawk.

But it doesn’t make me a prude or perpetually single or atrociously lonely. Because I’m not. IT JUST MAKES ME TRUE TO MYSELF.

And I don’t have a problem with anyone else divulging the complete details of their romantic lives, nor do I feel that it’s hypocritical for me to read their blogs and not share my own details. Because they choose to, and I DON’T. That’s how it works.

B) Oh my GOSH with the politics. So if I don’t write about my sex life, and I don’t write about my non-existent kids, and I don’t write about my cat (it died!), I should automatically begin writing about my views on government and international affairs? These are the only options?

I mean, I guess I could write about technology, but it could turn into a pretty boring succession of posts like, “Oooh! I love this! I just don’t know how it works!”

Actually, that sounds fun. But I digress (that was for you, girl!)

I don’t mind if people get political in my comments (which they invariably do), but I’m not a fan of theoretical backhanding, where the debate comes down to “you’re stupid!” “you’re MORE stupid!” “you’re so stupid I don’t know why you think you deserve to live!” “you’re so stupid… blah blah blah”

Which is what a lot of people do in place of respectful debate, when their passion gets the best of them AND when they are stuck so tightly to a line of thinking that they can’t possibly show respect to someone who thinks differently.

That’s not something I really ever wanted to see here.

Believe me, if you want that, you can find it at a million other places on the web, no matter what your political orientation might be. Nothing brings out superciliousness in people like a good discussion of politics. And having had those same debates with my family and friends — who love me, I know they do, they said so! — I’m not really into having them with people who a) don’t know the background on why I think the way I think and don’t care anyhow; and b) are raring to “flame” anyone who disagrees.

I’m not saying the people who read my blog right now would do that. I think you wouldn’t. But all it takes is one stupid troll to take the fun out of it for me. And I’ve seen those trolls on the sites of those who venture into the political realm. Web trolls, in my way of thinking, are like skunks: they might not create much of a stink in the end, but people run away just in case they do. And when they actually do? Oy.
That’s WAY too much power.

Also… I don’t think I know enough about most political things to spout off. Yes, I have a degree in Political Science. That doesn’t make me well-reasoned or thoughtful, though. It just means I read books, wrote exams, and paid a lot of money. And it takes a hell of a lot more than book-larnin’ to build an opinion worth listening to. And mine is worth listening to, I think. But I choose where to share it and how.

That doesn’t mean that I won’t go to your blog and respond to what you’ve said about politics. You’re comfortable with hosting debate in your space, and that’s awesome. In fact, you probably know more than me. I can probably learn a lot from you. It’s that whole choice thing again.

There, now. What else can I rant about?

Oh, yeah… why do people stop selling flip flops before the summer is over? And why do I get so much comment spam? And why does the media crucify people before they get their day in court? And why are people constantly searching for news about Mark-Paul Gosselar on my web site? And why is it so expensive to live in Vancouver?

Ah, I guess I’m out of steam. But there you go. This blog defies definition. It just is. And I love that you read it. So just keep doing that. And if you don’t want to?

Well… do it anyway. Or I’ll…

… eh, I’m too tired. JUST STAY. And make some coffee while you’re at it.