I sat there.
I just looked at her.
I said nothing.
I faked a smile, and nodded my head…and tried to listen.
I nodded, smiled…held it together as best I could, and listened.
I tried not to cry.
She told me I had no traffic. She told me I would never make any money with my blog. She told me my pictures were average. My writing was okay. She went on, and on. And I just sat there, with my mouth hanging open. I let her make me feel like shit. She told me I needed to change my nasty language, or I wouldn’t get readers. She was patronizing, and passive aggressive. She kept talking about how wonderful she was, and all of her accolades. And listed the things I needed to change about me, and the blog. And I just sat there, with my mouth hanging open. She told me no one would ever advertise on a “blog that had no followers”. Or a blog with my type of content. She said my pictures looked nothing like me. And I just sat there, with my mouth hanging open. She said she didn’t even read my blog. She wanted to help me, and work for me…but she didn’t even read my blog? She said she would never read a blog like mine. And she could never publicly support it.
I just sat there…with my mouth hanging open.
I think I must have been in shock. Or I was numb. Or I was just scared to move because she might attack me with her venomous, spider-like-claws! Yes, that was it. I was scared fucking shitless. I saw myself in my head..strangling her, ya know? Like attacking her while she was talking, in her high-pitched, soft-ass, fake-demure voice. I should have. I really wanted to. Just lunge at her, and wrap my newly manicured fingers around her neck. But, she had hives. I felt bad for her, she kept clearing her throat… she was obviously nervous. I mean, after all, she was ripping ME to shreds. How could a person be that nasty, and not be nervous? She even had notes. Notes. NOTES. Like a note pad filled with notes. Notes to tell me what a fucking loser I was. She even apologized for having the notes, and not being prepared. hahaha. I was like, oh…no worries! Next time we meet, you can come better equipped with a Powerpoint presentation! A bullet list of WHY I FUCKING SUCK BALLS! I think she must have missed the memo, that this was a job interview. I was looking to hire her.
I’m telling ya, I can’t make this shit up.
I can’t ask for better material.
If I had a book, or a show..I swear, I would be golden! And the entire time she is talking, I’m thinking…If she only knew the blog I’m going to write. Poor little thing, doesn’t she know she should quit while she’s ahead? Did you take note of that, Lady? I can’t let her win. I told her that blogging was cathartic for me, and it was fun. And I loved to write. And it’s true! Making money is just icing on the cake. And maybe one day, I’ll write a book, or have a show. Or get published in a magazine. Or maybe, I’ll never do a thing. But I will not let one nasty, jealous woman deter me from whatever it is I want to do. I walked out to my car, and I lost my shit. I did. But at least I made it to my car, right? I was proud of myself. I didn’t cry. Or kick her ass. After I bought my kids some cookies…I got in my car, sat in my front seat, and sobbed.
Nah, I didn’t sob, I ugly-cried.
My heart hurt. I was embarrassed. My ego was bruised, and I was angry at myself for taking that shit. Why didn’t I just get up and leave? Or tell her to shut it? I guess part of me was stunned. And maybe, another part wanted to hear “her truth”. Maybe I wanted to hear her version of what a “Southern Style The Truth Hurvitz” would look like. I’m not kidding. Look, different strokes for different folks, right? I am not for everyone, we all know that! Hell, some of my best friends don’t read me. I am over-the-top. I’m out there, and raw. I’m not your Oprah, or Martha. I’m your Sarah, or Chelsea. And I’m not going to change. Maybe that’s why I stayed put…just to hear it.
But I couldn’t handle the truth. Well, her “truth”. It sucked. My ego still hurts. And my heart still aches. So, I learned a good lesson, didn’t I? I have to keep on swimming, even against the current. Good one, huh? And every now and again, there will be a shark. Waiting to chomp my head off. And eat my brain. Whatever, you get the point. There will be thousands of people that don’t like me, and the blog. And I have to be okay with that…I have to just keep going. Keep on swimming…
Just keep swimming. And avoid bitchy, mean…jealous sharks. Especially if they have vaginas. Next time, I’m hiring a shark with a penis. I’ve always done so much better with a penis. Ha. ;)