Feedback

I'm all for feedback. Giving it is especially fun. Taking it, well, still learning to love, love, love it. The challenge taking feedback from siblings increases .... exponentially. Mostly, because it's conflicting, also because it's stupid and sometimes because it's devastatingly accurate (not that I give them the satisfaction of knowing they are right, of course).

So this weekend my beloved brother and sister gave feedback to me about this blog.

Brother: You know, Melissa, if I wanted to read the news, I'd just get the news from another page.

Sister (chiming in): Yeah, and could you at least give a tip-off about the kind of web-site you're linking to? I mean, can you at least say what we'll see on the website because we may not want to go there, you know?

But that's just the point of linking, I say--I don't have to type everything, you just go to the link and VOILA! the beauty of technology.

Brother: And, this, too, Melissa, I come to your blog for original content not someone else's stupid opinion.

Sister: Yeah! I like it when you write funny things, Melissa, not boring politics stuff.

But you don't like long posts, I protest to my sister who possesses the attention span of a coked up Poodle. She doesn't even read my blog. She's too IMPORTANT. Too busy. I'm not bitter.

Brother: I think I disagree with every single political view you have. Every one.

Oh, that can't be possible, I say. We have to have some common views.

Brother: That's what it is to be a Republican these days. (He speaks slowly, so I can g e t i t.)
You're in bliss because you're ignorant. No wonder you're happy. (This came on the heels of his opining about the 8 year old Chinese kid who made his custom Nikes. He's socially conscious, just not quite morally stricken enough not to order these $120 puppies. But he can't enjoy them. Oh no! That would be baaaaaad.)

Yup, that's the tip of the helpy helper feedback iceburg at the Clouthier compound this weekend. It should comfort all you people who think I'm being extreme about the super safe Jews in Europe, the pissed off port people and those who feel I haven't devoted near enough time to Dick Cheney's drinking and shooting habits. Don't worry, I'm getting my licks and not just in hate e-mail.

Finicky family. Get to be a super snot and all you have to do is hang around with your sister and brother, go shopping at the mall with three tired children or go for a pedicure for the first time in two years. Head size deflated.

The upside of this weekend? I got to spend time with my big moose of a baby brother. It has been too long. His political views notwithstanding , he's all right. And I'll put up with this MoonBat Liberal as long as we talk.