An open letter to a person who knows exactly who she is

You know, we started off with such high hopes. We had a dream, you and I. I was going to make a blog, and write in it, and lavish tender love and care on it, and you were going to read my blog. Together we would laugh over the witty things I wrote, and I would bask in your love and admiration. It was going to be special.

For a while it worked. You commented, I blogged, and I felt secure in your love and affection.

And then things changed.

At first it was subtle, oh yes, it was subtle. A mention here and there “A friend said that this blog is really funny. I heard from someone that they had read an amusing blog form Paraguay.” I was suspicious, but decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. After all, we were far apart, and I didn’t want you feeling that I was checking up on you.

Until I got that email.

Oh, it was an oversight of your that someone passed it on to me. Whether they meant to warn me, or whether it was a genuine mistake, I’ll never know. But there it was, in black and white, how you had visited another blog, and even found it amusing. It was all there you know, facts, names, places. And to add insult to injury, you told all our friends. So now they’re laughing at me behind my back, paying my blog ‘pity visits’ whilst they commiserate with you over how the other blogs are so much shinier, and wittier, and have less spelling mistakes, and are less strict about proper spelling, punctuation and grammar.

So what if I write entire blog entries about how much I hate plastic bags? So what if I thought today that I’d write an entry about how I’ve found 69 pence on the ground this month and I’m thinking about making a living out of collecting money on the ground? So what if I’m excited about the fact that I just bought an Elemis facial mask on EBay for 50% of the shop price? I have my likes and I refuse to feel guilty about them.

If I’m not cool enough for you then fine! Go read other blogs. In fact, I hope you read so many blogs that you develop a blogably transmitted disease and have to seal yourself up in a room with no internet access.

I’m not bitter, oh no. I just think you’re a horrible person who can’t keep her mouse in one place. Frankly, me and my blog are better off without you.