Good hair day yesterday. ...Oh, look. A pet in the background.
I've been blogging now for nigh on nine years. I have no idea what "nigh on" means. Does it mean "almost"? Because that would be inaccurate; it's now more than nine years. Nigh on nine years. I'm just gonna go ahead and make "nigh on" mean whatever I want it to mean.
Because I've been blogging for such a nigh on time, it's inevitable that some people who read me aren't gonna like me. The part where I let my bitch flag fly high probably doesn't help. I might even be a tad polarizing. Like cilantro. I am nigh on cilantro.
The first person to hate me was that Carin person, who when one day when I felt sad about something or other, and I got here and said I don't feel remotely funny today, took offense. I've noticed that any time I get on here and say I feel sad, people are mean. It's the oddest phenomenon, but it never fails, and years go by and I don't dare say I'm sad, then I forget and it happens again. I have literally typed a blog post in tears, mostly when things were going bad with Ned and me at the end, there, and written a whole funny tra-la-laaa! blog post just to avoid the mean.
But man, she really came out of nowhere. She accused me of trying to sell coffee mugs. Of course I was trying to sell coffee mugs. You can still buy coffee mugs, by the way. There's a button on the upper right. Anyway, she was mean. And then we all hilariously talked about her for freaking months. Any time I'd lose my glasses, someone would say, "Carin took them." Or Carin was responsible for a traffic jam, or she gave me the flu. I hope poor Carin didn't off herself.
Then some nutbar wrote me and told me I was bipolar. Bipolar. Pfft. I have no poles other than crabby. I think that whole thing was pretty much behind the scenes; she didn't leave mean comments so much as she left me mean emails. She also, I realized later, started a fake Facebook account, in which I was her only friend. Any time anyone friend requests me now and they have, say, seven friends and/or no photo, I do not accept the request.
Oh! And THEN there was that wingnut Kelly. I'm not saying if you hate me you have to be crazy. I can see how I would grate, believe me. Look, not everyone in the world can be as sweet as Faithful Reader Megsie or FR Sadie. You want a sweet blogger, go read The Nester. You want cilantro, you're in the right place.
Anyway, Kelly would leave all kinds of mean comments, like "Ned will leave you soon because you're so unattractive" and "Do you have rosacea?" Oh my god, she was a gem. And I'd block her, and she'd get another IP to comment from. THAT is what I mean by being a nut.
But now? Oh, now. I have the best hater of all. Because what this person did was BRILLIANT and I cannot help but love it.
About a month ago, I started getting emails on my blog email from The Gap, and Banana Republic, and Old Navy. I know they all belong to the same company, so getting mail from ALL EFFING THREE was annoying, but I understood it. The thing is, I never use this email address for anything except your comments. It's nigh on anything else. Today in the comments we have to use "nigh on" absolutely incorrectly all day long.
Anyway, I deleted them, but I was also curious about how I even GOT on Banana Republic's mailing list.
Then I started getting emails from Sears. And beauty-supply companies (hey! I'll take those!), old-lady stores like Soft Surroundings and medical supply companies for my walker.
And then? The Duggars' newsletter.
And right then I knew. Someone was fucking with me. Someone was signing me up for anything she could get her hands on. This must be a girl doing this, right? Men are never this vengeful in such a clever way. Men just shoot you in the head or whatever. Women are diabolical, man.
And it was the newsletter from the Duggars that made me love her. Because THIS WAS SO GREAT. Now I can't wait to see who she signs me up with next. Sometimes I get the introductory email. "Thank you for signing up for the Bible Passage a Day email. Click here to confirm."
I wish I had thought to do this to someone. I mean, I still could, but now it'd be derivative. I would so sign Hulk up for Animal Lovers Unite, or Yay, Democrats! or something. Or some super-gay-a-day email. Daily Dick Pics. I mean, once you start thinking of someone you want to torment, you can really go to town on what to sign them up for.
Actually, now that I think about it, when Marvin and I first separated, I did forward him all my Increase Your Penis Size spam, just for awhile. But that wasn't as genious as this.
Anyway, I'll keep you abreast. Today I got a Wall Street Cheat Sheet subscription, because you know how I can't get enough of checking on my stocks. It's like a little gift in my email, every day. It's like it's always Christmas, but not depressing, suck-out-your-soul regular Christmas. God, aren't you glad it's over? I am nigh on the fact that it's over.
Nigh on,
June
