Beware of the blog that bites

So, as most of you know, Saturday was my Christmas party and I love love loved it! It was everything I hoped it would be times approximately 500. By the end of the night I just felt so completely blessed and was essentially floating on a cloud. I could not stop smiling the next day (well, at least once the post-proseco effects wore off in the morning). There is basically nothing better in the world than having all the people one loves stuffed into your candlelit home, eating your lovingly prepared food, talking, laughing, and mingling. I felt so loved and had so much fun. Then came last night.

After church Sunday night, I came home and decided to check myspace before heading to bed. Of course, because I willingly admit to internet stalking a particular person I have a crush on, I decided to scope out his page before signing off. Now, this certain someone...hmm...let's call him Bryan Emerald, had made a brief appearance at my party (as if the party wasn't great enough!) where I proceeded to chat with him for a short while before he left, complaining of a headache. I, of course, was thrilled that he'd come and gushed for the majority of the evening about our "great eye contact". Bryan Emerald also happens to blog quite regularly on myspace, and when I viewed his page, I noticed a new entry titled "Christmas Party Cannibalism". It had been posted the day after my party, so with anticipation on what he may have written, I clicked it open and began to read the following blog entry (I hope it's not plagarism to blog a blog):

After going to see Narnia with a bunch of friends, and with a head full of drugs I went to a Christmas party last night. My eyes were like swamps, and I, three days unshaven to boot. I surely looked my dankest. All the champagne, smiles, schmoozing, eggnog, red, green, noise, Christmas jazz music, strung lights, cheer, and crampedness of the place really drove me to the edge. I was so groggy it was like I was viewing the whole scene through a veil of slow-shuttered fog. Other than standing in the kitchen talking to the hostess for a spell, I only remember one thing of my twenty-or-so minutes spent at the party. There was this girl I walked by on my way out. Tall, really tall, and skinny as a rail. Black slacks and a red, really tailored blouse that hung on her frame perfectly. She looked like a real live model, she really did. She was wearing a really gaunt, serious look plastered on her face (though it may have just been her reaction to the sight of me), her nose stuck up in the air so as to almost hit the ceiling. The funny part about her appearance, however, was not her clothes, nor even her expression; it was her accessory of choice. With her left arm bent at a ninety-degree angle, she carried out in front of her a long, skinny, breadstick. The breadstick must have been about forteen inches long, and with one bite taken off the top. The breadstick struck me immediately because it made her look as if she were carrying around a toy model of herself. I could not help but think the breadstick was also her entire dinner for the night.

I finished reading the entry with a sad and heavy heart. I hated just about everything he had written. I was frustrated, shocked, disappointed, and basically pissed off. There were several things, in particular, that were upsetting to me.

1) His use of the word "schmoozing". He was there for all of 15 minutes, and the entireity of that time was spent talking with me in the kitchen. He had no opportunity to see any "schmoozing". If he had been a better, more friendly person, and actually went into the party, he probably would have been amazed at how open, genuine, friendly, and all around amazing my friends are. He reduced my lovely party to something superficial and cheesy, like a random bar scene or office party.

2) Along the same lines was the flippancy with which he described the party as a whole. I spent a lot of time and money on that party. I thought out all the details. I did this not to garner praise or anything like that. I did it because I love my friends and I love to have them together, entertained, and having fun. I tried to be a good hostess to him. I offered him food, something to drink, and talked with him for a while. He did not eat a bite, drink a sip, and he reduced our conversation to "talking to the hostess for a spell." He describes "strung lights" that didn't even exist, and "Christmas Jazz music" that wasn't all that jazzy to paint some sort of shallow party atmosphere that wasn't even there.

3) Finally, and most apalling to me, was his description of my friend. Yes, she is tall and thin. And she actually is in commercials. His comment about the breadstick being a "toy model of herself" didn't even bother me so much. It was the fact that he made the judgement that she must be starving herself that I found so offensive. Since when was being thin and beautiful a crime? God created us each differently. Some of us were created tall and thin. Why is that so horrible? And then, on top of all of that, to describe her as being stuck up with "a gaunt, serious look plastered on her face...her nose stuck up in the air so as to almost hit the ceiling." He didn't even talk to the girl, but apparantly he saw everything he needed to know to make an assessment of her in about five seconds. And she is not stuck up. She is kind, and thoughtful, and friendly, and generous. Had he given her (or anyone else at my party...or even just my party) more than five minutes of his time, he may have realized this.

So I am going to do what he apparantly didn't have the time or decency to do: make a judgement of a person based on evidence, not on immediate impressions. Bryan Emerald thinks that he is great. He thinks that he can write thought provoking and poignant stories at the expense of others. He thinks this makes him cool. In reality, it is mean spirited and immature. I thought we stopped putting others down to make ourselves look better years ago. He is hot, but he most definitely is not worth another glance.