These are going up much later than usual because I went to see Harry Potter with my dear sister-in-law. The whole thing was awesome, except the battle scene, which was a travesty on a scale I have never before witnessed. And since the battle scene was pretty much the crux of the entire friggin series, the suckage that spewed forth overshadowed all the good things that came before it.
I can’t ever watch another Harry Potter film again, so great is my ire. I wish I could slap that director.
skipped quick takes altogether this week, so loath have I been to return to the blogosphere after the semantic beating I took this week.
It was one comment near the end that really sent me over the edge last night. I can’t understand some of the reactions I’ve been getting. They were so visceral, so outraged. It didn’t seem to fit a post in which I admitted, up front, that I was fumbling through my own thought process on the matter, nor did it seem to fit my numerous clarifications and apologies in the comment box.
I can only assume one of two things. Either 1) I was utterly unclear and totally offensive, and neither myself nor my husband nor a single one of my friends or acquaintances noticed it, or 2) some of my readers, who do not know me personally, were reacting to what they thought I was saying as opposed to what I was actually saying.
I’m Seriously Not Surprised
at all that people misinterpreted what I was trying to say because, as I said, it was something I was working through. Almost everything I post is something I’m working through. I don’t think I have all the answers; in fact, I wish I had any. That’s what my blog is for. I use it to explore, to learn through writing and through the comments I get back. I have most emphatically never thought of my blog as a platform where I tell people how to live. How could I, when I’m so busy trying to figure that out myself?
What Did Surprise Me
was the very real anger I got from some people. I know it’s a touchy subject, but I’m in this to learn. Why not tell my why you disagree? As some very mature commenters can attest, I take criticism well. I like to see where I’m wrong and why, so I can adjust my thinking. Why tell me that I’m putting women back centuries, that you’re going to stop reading my blog, that I’m propagating sexist rubbish? All that does is make me feel like an asshat and you look like one.
And neither of us want that.
I Have Concluded
that the best way to prevent this kind of thing from happening again is to clear up confusion about what it is that I use this blog for. So next week I’m going to write a post about my motives for blogging, how I see my posts, and the best way for you to approach my writing.
Hint: Do not act like I think I’m sitting on Sanai.
Here’s Another Hint
|One of these is me, and one is my blog. Can you guess which is which?|
One Very Important Sidenote
|I don’t even own a denim jumper!|
some of you seem to be under the impression that I am…of the sola skirtura persuasion.
At least, that’s the sense I’m getting from my comments. I’m feeling like people are beginning to view me as a traderific Tradity-Cat Catholic who wears denim jumpers and likes to tell my female neighbors to get their unholy bottoms out of the office and back to their kitchens where they belong, and for God’s sake to take those blasphemous pants off and put on nice, shapeless woolen skirt.
Obviously, you don’t know me personally if you think this. Let me just clear up that confusion, though, right here and now.
I have a nose ring. The cartilage in my right ear is pierced. My hair is currently striped blond and red. I’m wearing a strappy sundress that shows my knees. I love Janis Joplin. I cook because I like to eat and chopping things helps me manage my anger issues. I don’t work in a traditional job because I really don’t want to. And guess what? I friggin love jeans!
Please remember that the internet obscures much, and that having an evolving traditional understanding of gender roles does not mean that I would like you to please put on this mantilla before God strikes you with lightning.
My blog title is at least 85% ironic, you guys. Yeah, I was actually barefoot and pregnant when I started this blog, but I called it that as a joke. Because my idea of a nightmare used to be being barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen, and then that’s where I ended up. It’s a joke. See?
But you should really get back in the kitchen before your husband gets home and says, “I divorce thee” three times. Cause you’ll totally deserve it if that happens.
Go see Jen
for more quick takes, have a fabulous weekend, and pretty please, can we play more nicely next week?