13 March 2012

Extreme Spousing, Impending Birthday Doom, And Plagiarism Anger 101 -- RTTR

I'm going to turn the big ol' two-five on Thursday. I feel so much older than that. I know it's not really that old, but I've been through so much in the past ten years, that it just feels like it's been twenty. I'm already getting grey hair, I've got wrinkles and saggy skin in places, and my life is far from where I thought it would be. I'm getting there, but not exactly as fast as I always dreamed I would.

With a myriad of schooling and relationships, health scares and parenting/marriage woes, it seems far more reasonable to say that I'm turning 40. I'm not, but again, it feels like I am. Also, after twenty-four consecutively atrocious birthdays, I'm awaiting a twenty-fifth. It's kind-of like when I was 21, pregnant and waiting by the phone because my fiance was deployed, and I ended up spending most of the day in my uncle's basement. You see, there were TORNADOES. ON MY BIRTHDAY. OH FUCK ME.

I hate my birthday, and not just because half of my family refers to me as "the bad luck baby":

  • Fourth grade, skating rink party, three injuries. Also, someone sneezed on my custom cake. Fucker. 
  • Ninth grade, first girlfriend dumped me because I wouldn't "come out". Well, at thirteen, I was barely old enough to understand what I was going through, much less tell my super christian friends and family that I was dating a fifteen year-old chick who couldn't kiss worth a shit. 
  • Twenty-two (or was it twenty-three), Husband decided that his friends (that really only want to be his friend when it's convenient for them) were far more important than me. I spent the whole day (and night) crying on the vacation HE wanted to take, and then when he tried to "make it up to me", he stood me up in one of the fanciest restaurants I've ever been to, and an older (and completely awesome) gay couple decided to get me wasted to forget about him and his meanness. I was in a city where I knew practically no one, in a bar where it costs half a day's pay to get a drink, alone. It was sad.
  • Last year, same thing, only this time, I was called a whore in front of my child, for no reason whatsoever, by someone old enough to know better. Also, no one remembered it was my birthday, except on Facebook, and I don't really remember much about it, because I was in class, taking a test. I aced that bitch, too. I also worked that day. Bam. Adulthood. 
And that's only a few of the many reasons I hate my birthday. Let's move on, shall we?

I've created a new extreme sport.. or television show. Whichever comes first. Just remember, you saw this HERE first, so let's give me a pat for thinking it up. I'll remember the little people when I'm accepting a shitty daytime television award.

EXTREME SPOUSING! ::cues crazy gruff voice and "extreme" musical score::

It's where you and your spouse seem to have the most EXTREME.. ly hardcore arguments over completely asinine issues that should really be deemed "moot".. ALL OF THE TIMES. Like, television volume while people who work third shift in the house are sleeping, and you're trying to work, and SHIT IS GETTING REAL. Or, like putting in job applications, holding up a part of a pretty important agreement, etc.

Instead of getting pissed and using your big growed-up words, like civilized normal couples, you can come on my show, or whoever decides to pick it up, and go at LEAST Super Saiyan 3 on each other. It's fun and entertainment for the audience, gets out pent-up aggression out for the couple, and it's easier than therapy.

I need this show to start NOW. Like, RIGHT NOW. I'm not too proud to admit that, like most young-ish couples who started out their relationship under difficult circumstances, we fight. A lot. A whole fucking lot. It's getting tiresome, with both parties feeling drained and defeated at the end of the day. I am an adult, but sometimes, I fight like a stupid teen. I married someone who's every inch an alpha personality, like myself, so we know exactly what buttons to push to get each other to act completely stupid.

It would be fun to beat the shit out of him with a giant Q-Tip, but that's neither here nor there.

Moving on again.. Whooooosh!

The interweb.. it's a funny place, right? Last week, we talked about the crazy antics ensuing over there at that Chrysler Blogger Face-off thing. This week, we tune in and learn that the same party responsible has been called-out for plagiarism. Age, and pregnancy, are used as an excuse for said stealing, and it makes me really, REALLY, fucking crazy-mad.

I'm about to be twenty-five, which means I'm TWO years YOUNGER than her. I've never stolen someone else's work. I learned at an early age just how detrimental that can be. I've been falsely accused of stealing someone's printed off the internet article to use for an assignment, and that was bad enough. Thanks to her bad day, I had a big ol' fat dose of Saturday School, and a large stain on my record. It was expunged, but still. It's a serious issue, that there stealing thing.

I know better, and I'm ashamed to be lumped into a now pretty general class of "age equals stupidity" and "excuses, excuses". I have somehow managed to come up with my own shit, pregnant or not, young or not, for years. It's not easy, and it's especially difficult to make something your own in the digital age. Everyone has already said everything there is to say. Which makes and breaks a good blogger/writer. It makes ME better, personally, and quite obviously it has broken her. Quit instead of stealing. You'll get more respect.

If it's your JOB to write, whether you're good at it or not, you should at least make an effort to be original. Now, with that being said, I would like to clear the air. Not all twenty-something bloggers are a disgrace. There are just a few out there, that think they're invincible. I'm sorry on their behalf, and I hope that those of us that are honest and love what we do aren't going to end up with faces full of mud from this fiasco.

I have had my fair share of stealing and copying in my graphics business. I've even had to go as far as to get a cease and desist against a large corporation for stealing a damn Christmas card design when a customer decided to go with them, rather than the local business that I normally referred all my clients to for printing. She did so to save a few bucks, but it cost me my salary for a month and a lot of time and clients. Thanks for that, again. You know who you are. I know you're reading this. I should've billed you the five grand I shelled out/lost because of you.

Just CITE. Please. Cite, give credit, whatever it takes. It doesn't take any more time than going somewhere and stealing the work. I have done it a thousand times. If you've ever written a research paper, you should know all about proper citation, and several of the accepted methods of doing so.

The blog posts and websites I read and referenced to (about both crazy issues) will be listed at the end of this post. There is the actual Chrysler contest page, the awesome Avitable's blog where he defends and explains the mess to perfection, and the post over at the wonderful Amalah site that explains the thievery.

Now, I know this is incoherent at best, and scattered, but it's RANDOM TUESDAY. Also, family is driving me insane today, and I'm having trouble remembering what I want to write for work, much less this blog post. There. Excuses. I'm using them. It's my right as a YOUNG BLOGGER PARENT, right? See what I did there? LULZ of the day for me.

Head on over to Stacy's awesome blog to link up to the randomness this Tuesday. Happy reading, y'all!

Amalah's Blog Post
Avitable's Awesome Blog Post
The Start of the Chrysler/Ignite SM Fiasco

There were others, but we all know Kristine, from Wait In The Van, and I'm not even giving the actual blog in question the time of day. Views only keep her in paid gigs, and it's sad. So very, very sad.

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