A Blog Post About Blogging

It's pretty remarkable to me the impact that blogs/bloggers have begun to have on our society in recent years. Bloggers are getting book deals, becoming semi-famous, and perhaps the most amazing of all, making a living off blogging (If anyone knows how to do this, please let me know). And for what? Writing their opinions and views on whatever they feel like and posting it on the internet? Anyone with a computer, even an idiot like myself, can create a blog in two minutes and suddenly they have this authority to comment on whatever they see fit, without any real consequences.

Or are there?

The internet provides perfect anonymity: one can say pretty much whatever the hell they want, however scathing, and hide behind their computer screen. Unless you give some clue to your identity, no one has to know who you are or what you really do. But, God forbid you DO give personal information, and give too much of it; well, you're going to have hell to pay.

And chances are, your name is Julia Allison.

I've never said anything about her before because there are enough items on the internet dedicated to her already, and I've never commented on any of the Gawker items about her except to say "WHY DO WE NEED ANOTHER POST ABOUT THIS GIRL?! DAMN YOU NICK DENTON, DAMN YOU!!!" See, the thing is, I don't really have a problem with her. I know I'm supposed to hate her, at least that's what everything written about her is telling me, with the exception of the recent NYTimes piece, which has been claimed by several different people to be inaccurate. Anyway, there's not much information out there about JA that isn't some diatribe about how awful she is. To be honest, some of the comments people make are shockingly harsh. I always wonder, what has this girl done to you to warrant such scathing verbal abuse? Have you ever met her in person? Then what right do you have to say anything? Oh right, you're hiding behind the protective shield of the internet.

I'll admit it, I follow her on Tumblr (aka I read her blog), and what I've noticed in reading it is that, well...I kind of like her. Maybe. A little. I could--GASP!--see us being friends, her being the kind of friend that sometimes does really stupid things that annoy me but I still love her anyway. Whether or not this is relevant, my cousin is the one responsible for her getting her job with TimeOut NY, and we have friends in common at Georgetown. Sometimes I read her blog and roll my eyes, sometimes I vehemently disagree with everything she says, and sometimes I think she's spot on in her observations and insights. But the fact is, she's a human being, with feelings like anyone else. If any of us were put under the same scrutiny she's under, I'm sure people could find our faults and expose them. If any of us put ourselves out there like she does, we could get criticized all the same. But that's just the thing--we don't.

If nothing else, Julia is a perfect lesson in what not to do on the internet. I'm aware of the saga of her and Jakob Lodwick, and I'm not taking her side over his or anything like that. To be honest, I read his blog as well and I really like the things he puts on there. He's obviously a very intelligent and creative person, and that's where my judgment ends. The fact of the matter is, who am I, or anyone else, to be commenting on either of them? I don't know these people in person. I shouldn't have any right to say anything about either of them. But because they put themselves out there on the internet, and I because I have a blog, I can.

There are times when I struggle over what I should post and what's too personal. Anything you put on the internet can, and probably will, come back to haunt you, and it's safe to say anyone with a blog won't be running for office anytime soon. There have been times when I've referenced things that JA has posted as a way to rationalize to myself something I might post. Granted, she has a lot more readers than I do and is far more in the public eye than I am (thank God). But even so, I tend to hold back. Maybe she can be comfortable about broadcasting every detail about her personal life, and bravo to her for being that brave, but I can't. And I think personally for me at least, that's a very good thing. When I first made this blog, I had every intention of being completely anonymous. That has only lasted to a certain degree, but anyone could very easily hop on over to my Tumblr, which is much more personal on a "daily-life" basis, and see what I look like, get my email address, etc. Only a very small few of my "real life" friends read my Tumblr, but I wouldn't really have a problem with them reading it, though I do like the idea of knowing exactly who is reading it. I don't think I'd want my mom to see it, but otherwise I don't really mind who does. HELLO, IT'S THE INTERNET. If you're putting it out there, it goes without saying that you're aware that anyone in the world can see it. Sometimes I think people forget that.

There are people who read this blog who I know in real life, people who I feel like I know in real life but just haven't met yet, and people who I probably will never meet, and that's fine. As for anyone else, sure. If anyone actually wants to take the time to read what I write, that's great. There's nothing very informative, and I intend to keep it that way. I don't like to write about politics, business, etc because I know there are plenty of people out there who know more about any given subject than I do. But I'm the expert on my own personal experiences, so that's what I'll stick to. That, and bitching and whining, since it happens to be my forte.

Julia is supposedly taking a "hiatus" from blogging right now, which I think is the smartest thing she can do. That's not to say she hasn't been found in other mediums, but at least its a bit of a reprieve. I actually kind of miss reading her blog, if for nothing else but the entertainment. She's brave enough to put herself out there and be honest, no matter how many times she says something she shouldn't and regrets it later. Maybe she's learned her lesson, maybe she hasn't, maybe she never will. She is guilty of nothing more than loving herself (maybe a little too much) and being determined to be succeed by whatever means, and not giving a fuck who judges her.

If nothing else, the rest of us bloggers out there can learn one thing from Julia, and whoever else Gawker chooses to crucify this year: blogging, and the internet in general, can be dangerous, and anyone can be put on the chopping block. But if you're the one that put yourself there, don't expect much sympathy.

And God dammit Nick Denton, come up with a better way to get pageclicks. Please.

Yes, I am alive

Who sucks at blogging? ME. I know, I know. To be honest, I haven't even looked at my blog in so long that it wasn't even in my web history anymore. Hence why I didn't see any of the comments on my last entry until right now. Is it weird that I feel proud for getting my first anonymous, semi-rude comment? I have arrived!

Anyway, my only excuses are the following:
1. I have been in Mexico for the last week (legit)
2. I'm producing a feature documentary that's currently in development and it's kind of taking over my life. (legit)
3. I'm completely and totally back to work. (semi-legit)
4. I am too lazy to come up with complete posts and instead have become completely addicted to Tumblr. (lame)

Tomorrow, it's off to Westchester for Easter weekend. I'm going to the same house I spend Christmas Eve at, so it's sure to be a good time.

Happy spring!

I Am A Slacker, Make Poor Excuses

Yes, I know I am overdue for a real post. And guess what? This isn't one either. I'm a poor excuse for a blogger, I know. The fact is, I'm better at ADD blogging like on Tumblr unless I can form enough coherent thoughts to make a relatively well-written post. Anyway, REAL POST TOMORROW. I promise.

For now, some LOLcats for your enjoyment. I don't even like cats in general (I'm much more of a dog person), but these made me laugh.







Tomorrow: Oscar recap!

Some Holiday Cheer From My Favorite Website In The Entire World

Happy Valentine's Day!

Something Lame, And The Most Un-Lame Thing Ever

I've been slacking on the posts this week, and believe it or not, its because I've been actually kind of busy. Yeah, I know, wicked lame excuse for someone who is confined to her apartment (hence the subject). But I've been trying to get a lot of work done, and trying to readjust and work out my schedule. Tomorrow I'm going home for the weekend because I have to have yet another meeting with my surgeon. Keep your fingers crossed that he tells me I can start putting weight on my ankle. Oh, and there's the Superbowl. No big deal.

To make up for my lameness (in theory as well as literally/physically), I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you all, if you haven't been introduced already, to the wonderfulness that is Jake and Amir.

If you like The Office, or actually, if you have any sense of humor whatsoever, you will enjoy their videos. They work for Connected Ventures, which is the media company behind goldmines such as CollegeHumor and Busted Tees. Basically, these guys are hilarious. To use one of their own terms, they are "so ace". (Watch them. You'll get it.) I recently became a fan and am now addicted, and look forward to their new videos as much as I would look forward to a new episode of any of my favorite TV shows (most of which right now, do not exist, thank you WGA strike).

As hard as it is for me to pick my favorite videos, two four of them are below. But if you're smart, you'll bookmark their website. Seriously. Just watch them. All of them. Just do it.






Beer from Amir on Vimeo.


Costume from Amir on Vimeo.

Tomorrow: LOST predictions, questions, etc!

How Is This Even Possible?!?

I uploaded a photo of my broken ankle onto my Flickr page on January 1st. As of one minute ago, it has been viewed 826 times. Someone that I don't know has marked it as one of their "favorites".

What?!?

One Down, One To Go

So today I had my first surgery of the week, the oral procedure. To be blunt, it was a royal bitch. After the novocaine wore off, and even with the help of Percocet, I wanted to stab myself in the eye or beat myself with my crutches. Not to mention spitting up blood every ten minutes and having a mouthful of gauze all day. TMI? Sorry.

Anyway, with regard to the ankle: I wish I had a better story, but it was ice. New Year's Eve, in my friend Nick's driveway. When my parents woke up the next morning to me screaming, they made the executive decision to go the doctor. I figured at worst, a sprain. So my doc does some x-rays, and guess what? It's broken. He sends me to the ER.

I hate hospitals. Hate, hate, hate them. Not just from being there myself, which was never for a good reason, but more so for being there for someone else. Nothing good comes from it, ever.

And needless to say, the entire premise of the ER is to wait. Sign in, wait to register. Register, wait for triage. Get triaged, wait to be called in for treatment. Get into a room, wait for a doctor. In my case, I didn't even get a doctor. I got some assistant, who looked at it and looked at my x-rays, and when I told her that I had pain in my upper calf, said I needed to get another x-ray, because not only had I already broken two bones, it was possible that I broke one of them in two places. Get second x-ray. Wait for someone to look at them. Wait for results. Luckily, the assistant had been wrong, and I just had the two fractures of my tibia and fibula in the ankle. Wait for an orthopedic doctor to come look at it. Wait wait wait. I have still not been given anything for the immense pain that I've been in for the last 12 hours. Finally a nurse who wasn't even treating me comes in and asks me if I want something, thank God. The assistant comes back in and says they've called in an orthopedic doctor who specializes in ankles. Wait for him to get to the hospital. Wait for him to look at my x-rays. Finally he comes in and delivers the news: I have to have surgery, or the bones won't heal correctly. Afterwards, wait for someone to bring in the splint. He sets my ankle (OWWWW), splints it, wraps it. Set up plans for surgery. Wait for a nurse to come discharge me.

So I'm having surgery on Friday. The doctor is supposed to be the best one in the hospital for this kind of surgery, but of course my dad is skeptical. He knows some members of the board, not to mention the hospitals in Boston are some of the best in the world, and he (typically) wants only the best, so I may be getting a new surgeon. The doctor says I'll be on crutches with absolutely no weight on my ankle for 3-4 weeks. After that, I'll still be on crutches but I'll be able to put some weight on it. Luckily, I'll be at home until the last week in January, but once I get back to New York, I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to function.

It's so odd to me, to be at the age where I'm starting to think about the time in the future when I'm going to have to take care of my parents (a long way off, but even so), and suddenly, this happens and I'm back to my mom completely taking care of me like a little kid. On the one hand, it can be nice. But I'm such an independent person by nature, I hate depending on other people, and I'm one of those OCD people who would rather do everything herself than someone else because I know I'll do it right, even when it means I have to do extra work. Basically, needing to ask my mom to do EVERYTHING, from getting me a glass of water, helping me in and out of the car, get clothes out of my closet, handing me something from across the room, and other inane tasks that I never thought twice about before, is already getting old. I drew the line at helping me get dressed. A girl needs to cling to some shred of dignity.

The other irony is that I posted that survey in which I noted my surprise at not going to the hospital in 07 a few short hours before the incident. Dammit!

The part that I'm most bummed about, other than how being on crutches is going to affect my job and social life, is that I'm supposed to be running a half marathon in May. I doubt that I will be recovered enough to run anytime before March. Even then, getting back into the shape I was in before the fall is going to take a while. Doubling my endurance (right now I can do about 6 miles) in two months is going to be brutal, if not impossible.

But I'm trying to think positively. It could be worse. This time last year I would have been heading off to London, and God knows what would have happened then. It will heal, and hopefully the time will pass quickly. It happened early enough in the break that I still have a lot of time at home to be lazy. And the support and sympathy I've gotten has been almost overwhelming. Friends, extended family, even friends of my parents who I don't really know. It's touching, but I would obviously trade all of it for this never to have happened.

Not to mention I've got enough prescriptions for Percocet, Vicodin, and other narcotics to numb a herd of elephants. Thank you, modern science!

**************

In other news, I have officially caved: I joined Flickr. I'm debating whether or not I should upgrade to a paid membership. Has anyone done this? Is it worth it? I didn't know you were limited to a certain number of photos per month, which is kind of annoying. The link to my page is on the sidebar, so add me if you're a member!