when bloggers actually have souls
WARNING: this is when i get really angry, nay… disgusted with people. feel free to close your browser now.
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i received an email yesterday from a woman, offering money in return for placing her ad as a link in one of my previously written posts.
i get a lot of these. all bloggers do. and typically i just delete them and move on. this email, however, struck me as odd because she referenced the post in which she wanted to place her ad.
she specifically requested this post i had written back in february. i’ll let you take a minute to read the post to understand why my curiosity was peaked when learning that someone wanted to place an ad link in that particular post.
odd, no? who requests and ad link be placed in a post like that?
so, i wrote her back and simply asked for specific details.
this was her response…
The link would be to www.types-of-nurses.com/forensic-nursing
And we’d like it on this post http://www.mybottlesup.com/2011/02/create-the-mold-of-a-rape-victim/
All you would have to do is edit the second paragraph to read: “..i’ve sat with them in emergency rooms while a forensic nurse collected evidence, and i’ve sat with them in SARC…”
Then make the words “forensic nurse” link to our site
And that’s it. As soon as the link is in place we can immediately pay you via PayPal. Let me know if you are interested and if we can work something out. Thanks!
to say i was flabbergasted does not even touch it. i was astounded. disgusted. enraged. i was hurt and disappointed.
i told paul about the brief email exchange i had with this woman, and as he shook his head in disbelief, i let my anger out. i said nasty things, cursed humanity, and told paul where i would like to see this woman go. i was so mad that i cried. i got up off the couch, went to the bathroom, and cried.
how dare she! how dare anyone! what is wrong with people?!?!
but i made sure to write her back first…
Dear __________,
No. There is no amount of money anyone could PayPal me to place ads for forensic nursing programs in my posts regarding rape and sexual assault.
Nic
i know just as well as the next person does that the blog world can get ugly sometimes. i know that there are bloggers deemed as “sell outs” for accepting money for posts, ads, etc. ya know what though? i also know that people need to make a damn living. bloggers need to put food on the table just as much as anyone else does.
have i “sold out” and accepted payment for posts? sure. will i continue to? possibly. if the opportunity is the right opportunity.
and yeah, there are times when i cringe at certain offers, the inner starving artist inside of me yelling DON’T GIVE IN TO THE MAN!!!
but there are times when i feel overjoyed and grateful for opportunities (paid and unpaid) that are offered to me as a blogger.
what you won’t see me do is accept any form of payment for placing an ad link in a post i have written about rape and sexual assault.
isn’t the subject taboo enough? isn’t there enough controversy surrounding abuse, rape, and sex crimes? what do you think offering bloggers money for ad links in rape-related posts will do? get you more clicks? traffic to your site? no. it won’t. all it will do is make the association between consumerism and sexual abuse.
use that money that you were going to paypal me and give it to a sexual assault response center. donate it to the Joyful Heart Foundation and work to end the backlog on rape kits.
don’t offer that money to someone who wrote a post months ago in the hopes of being heard and making a change. that’s just insulting, and makes you look like an asshole.
mish-mosh, updates, and a side of ginger snap cookies
so… this morning, after i found myself able to lift my head off the pillow without feeling a strong desire to vomit all over my king sized mattress, i promptly got dressed (no shower FTW!) because who wants to be first-trimester-bloated pregnant and walking around in a t-shirt and underwear when a demolition comes into your apartment?
not me. at least not me today. maybe tomorrow, ya never know.
after inhaling a few ginger snap cookies for breakfast, i wrangled up jackson to head for a quick trip to the grocery store because we’re out of milk and apparently i enjoy milk and all things dairy-like when i’m pregnant. i should just buy a cow for the next 7 months.
the only way i coax jackson into the car and out of the numerous puddles he wanted to jump in was to promise him a donut. a chocolate donut.
parenting at its finest! bribery wins all things.
now that i am back home, the milk is chilling in the fridge, and i took my asshole dog out to have the nervous shits for the umpteenth time this week, my son’s sugar high has kicked in. i should just kick my own ass.
the demolition crew arrived. what? why? demolition crew? they promptly began tearing apart more of our master bedroom due to the hurricane damage. no, the crew is not hot, for those of you wondering. not hot at all.
i started a new gig over at babble.com’s “being pregnant” blog today. totally excited to share my crazy pregnant insight over there, monday thru friday. and the extra income with a little person arriving next spring is nice as well.
my first post was published just this morning, and i burst the bubble of the infamous pregnancy glow that totally does not exist during the first trimester.
you can check it out here.
so with a new writing gig, a torn up apartment, the day-to-day with a 3 year old who still refuses to poop on the potty… oh yeah, AND I’M MOVING NEXT WEEK, things are a wee bit hectic.
life is fun, y’all. fun and fantastic and i’m just rollin’ with it all in the hopes that no one notices my lack of personal hygiene for the next week or so.
also, before i forget, an abundant amount of THANK YOUS to all of you who have commented, tweeted me, emailed, and left me messages on my facebook page with your sweet congrats for our growing family. truly, thank you.
8723023836432994 times a day
but why can’t i watch sponge bob?
but why don’t you eat breffast?
but why i can’t have juice?
but why i have to take a baff?
but why do i go potty in a pull-up?
but why you have big boobs?
but why is red a bad dog?
but why can’t i sit in front?
but why clean up toys?
but why is dad at work?
but why i can have ice cream treats?
but why i can have MORE ice cream treats?
but why you take a shower?
but why moms smell?
but why do the bugs buzz loud?
but why i can’t drive?
but why i haffoo nap?
but why you don’t jump with me?
but why i can’t climb there?
but why dad is sweaty?
but why mickey mouse clubhouse isn’t on?
but why it’s not winter yet?
but why you can’t get me lollipops?
but why moms and dads watch the news?
but why i’m not bigger?
but why i can’t go on diving board?
but why mom has scratchy legs?
but why i can’t get red’s poops?
(ok that last one, i’ll totally let him do as soon as he can maneuver the plastic bag.)
dear absolut vodka, please make a bottle called MADNESS. parents will thank you.
if i were all graphically inclined to do awesome shit with my computer, like most people who have a blog are, this is where i would place an image of a vodka bottle with the label reading ABSOLUT MADNESS and a picture of me crying and pulling my hair out.
perhaps i would add some sort of tornado design circling around me.
and tears. can the vodka be made with tears? human tears. not unicorn.
it’s not that kind of vodka.
i’ll keep my day job. stick to words.
i do hereby vow to rub the feet of all single parents around the world. seriously. i will rub your feet. it may only last for a few seconds, possibly a minute, depending on how quickly my hands cramp up, but i have the best of intentions.
with this being day 2 of single parenting jackson while paul is on the west coast for the week, all i can think about is ZOMG WE’RE MOVING IN 5 WEEKS AND PAUL IS GOING BACK TO A SQUADRON AND HOW THE HELL DO I DO DEPLOYMENTS WITH A KID!?!?!
deployments SUCK.
no, scratch that. any time away from the one you are madly in love with SUCKS. period. the end.
did i mention that after 2 months of being seizure-free, my dog started having cluster seizures yesterday, shortly after paul left for the airport.
THIS IS ME SMILING AND SAYING “I GOT THIS. I’M ALL OVER THIS SHIT.”
yeah, so how do you handle that? please tell me. how do you handle explaining dog seizures to your 3 year old who is asking, “why is red shaking?” or “how do i stop it?” or “do the shakes hurt red?”
thus far, i’ve gone with straight up honesty, but now that i am sleep deprived and questioning every single teeny little decision i make because I AM THE ONLY ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS LITTLE PERSON I HELPED TO CREATE this week, i wonder what the rest of you would do with your kidlets.
baby, red is shaking because he doesn’t feel good.
i want to stop him from shaking, just like you do, but i can’t.
can you help me pet him and say ‘it’s ok, red’?
he’s going to be ok. we’ll get some medicine from the doggy doctor.
yes, it’ll stop some days but today is just a bad day for red.
you know that feeling you get when you’re emotionally spent and THIS CLOSE TO CRYING in an effort to release these emotions of yours but you don’t want to lose your shit in front of your kid so you stifle it and as your eyes water up with tears, you just think to yourself “DON’T YOU FUCKING SPILL OVER, TEARS. DON’T YOU DO IT!”
…and then your 3 year old lays down next to his dog on the floor to comfort him through a seizure.
yeah. THAT.
i know… I KNOW… things could be so much worse. believe me, i know. paul is on the west coast this week for a funeral.
so please put away your pitchforks and just let me cry.
because at this moment, mickey mouse club house is on and all i hear is donald duck’s voice that i could never ever understand, and my kid is spilling trix all over the couch because he’s trying to dance and jump at the same time, and it’s the same trix that he didn’t finish last night for dinner, and we had trix for dinner because we were at the vet with the seizure dog through what is normally our dinner time.
and it’s only 8:25 am.
and i don’t make the coffee as good as my husband does.
10 pool rules are 9 too many
during the summers of 1996 through 1999, i earned money to buy my first fake id by working as a lifeguard at various pools in the atlanta suburbs. it was a decent enough job with a good hourly wage, fun kids to work with, and free snickers and gobbstoppers. i would clock in and spend my days wearing too little sunscreen and learning too many whistle tricks.
i’ve seen my fair share of asshole kids freshly out of school, drunk on summer freedom, who repeatedly got yelled at for running, yelled at for dunking a smaller kid, yelled at for sneaking in the pool during “adult swim,” and yelled at for sinking coke cans at the bottom of the pool. before it was empty.
(i’ve also been that asshole kid.)
now that i’m a parent, i’m not only concerned for my child’s safety around a pool, but i’m finding myself more and more concerned about other kids being dickheads while their parents set the dickhead example.
with that said, i found that having just one pool rule sums everything up.
DON’T BE AN ASSHOLE.
seriously, is it that hard to be kind to someone and say “sorry” when inadvertently splashing someone you didn’t intend to splash, or “thank you” when someone holds the bathroom door open for you while watching you walk in with nothing on your feet?
is it that hard to keep an eye on your own kid? you don’t have to go all helicopter-parent-at-the-pool, but at least be aware of when your kid is the kid who is shoving other kids into the pool. in other words, keep your eyes open. it’s too hot out to fall asleep out in the sun. i know you’re not asleep. you would die falling asleep in these temperatures. quit faking it.
is it really that hard to discipline your own kid? i hope you don’t expect other parents to do it for you. i have a kid of my own. i don’t need to discipline yours too. that’s your job. so when your kid is the one taking the squirt gun right out of my kid’s hand to then turn it on him and open fire, that would be a good time for you to step in and parent your child.
and, is it that hard to share pool toys with someone else? we’re going to see one another at the pool throughout the entire summer. we may not “know” one another, but we recognize one another. we don’t have to be best friends in order for our kids to throw the beach ball together. there’s no need to act like i am a leper and give me and my kid the stink eye when he asks your kid if he can join in the fun. i don’t see your kid giving me the stink eye. i see YOU giving me the stink eye. your sunglasses can only hide so much.
is it too much to ask that your kid takes turns? diving board, water slide, volleyball… whatever it is, just take turns. yes that means that you may have to wait a minute, maybe even two, before doing your flying squirrel but trust me, it’s much appreciated by everyone around you. and if you take turns, no one is going to think you’re an asshole.
and lastly, is it that difficult to clean up after yourself? really? i like flavor-ice as much as the next person. what i don’t like is finding your flavor-ice wrapper attached to my butt when i get up from my lounge chair. i’m pretty certain there are trash cans located in various places around the pool. use them please so that i can stop fantasizing about throwing you in one of them.
all of this boils down to one simple rule… DON’T BE AN ASSHOLE.
and, bonus, all of these little lessons that i just shared with you can be applied to many other scenarios that don’t involve a pool.
you’re welcome.
also, don’t forget your sunscreen. kthanksbye.
Have a Sip
