You know, it’s been a long week.

I’ve been teaching long division and the history of Canada. I’ve sat in a parking lot for 25 minutes trying to fix my windshield wipers on a day so cold my hands actually stuck to the metal. I’ve talked to a grade 3 student while she told me about both of her grandparents having cancer. I started volunteering at the hospital and had to face the sad truth that my hospital does not resemble Grey’s Anatomy. At. All.

Which is why I considered not writing this post. I’m not really in the best mood. I’m not feeling very level-headed, very in control of what I’m saying. And so I suppose I it would be wise to let this go, follow the philosophy that a deep breath and a hot bath will cure my current rage. But you know what? I’ve had the bath and I’ve never been one to find peace through a deep breath. It’s why I need to write, to argue, to say what I’m feeling- when I feel it. I can’t let it go in a breath. I can’t exhale my anger away. I need to say it with words.

Why am I so annoyed? Look at Comment #52 in the previous post.

It isn’t even the spinster comment. Which sure, as a single girl might cause some people to tailspin into a dangerous and murky depression during these cold, dark months. I actually don’t mind the term. I view a spinster as a nice old lady who makes tea, dusts a collection of souvenir teaspoons and has a fireplace. Sure, it’s not my dream life but it’s far from the insult I know some take it as.

It’s the idea that the person who commented wrote something that has nothing to do with what I wrote about. At all. And of course, did it anonymously. It would appear that anytime I get a nasty email, or an unkind comment it’s always anonymous. And the thing is- if a person disagrees with me, I don’t mind. I really don’t. I don’t believe that one dictator should rule the blog, but I DO believe that if you are strong enough to state your opinions, or comment on my life (even when it’s not asked for, or even remotely related to the post- as in the case of Sam) you should have the courtesy to do it with a real name, a real e-mail address. It’s just respectful. And regardless what you think of me, I think I deserve that much. This doesn’t just go for “Sam”, or for “Annie” but for the person named “Emma” who’s emailed me repeatedly calling me a ‘leftist bitch’, who thinks she’s original because she called it “The Leftist Wing”. (This one actually annoys me the most. You can screw around and call me pathetic or speculate on my relationship status but when you start cracking wise about my love for The West Wing? Not cool.).

And if Sam is wondering if I’m going to ‘disprove’ his view? I’m not. Because it’s not worth my time. And neither is dealing with anonymous emails/comments, or anything that doesn’t bring a rainbow into my universe. From now on, I’m just hitting delete.

So Sam views me as a spinster, Emma views me as a leftist and Annie just views me as pathetic. It could be worse I suppose. I could be the kind of person who sends people messages anonymously because they have nothing else to do.

Yeah. That would definitely be worse.

* Some might think that it’s unfair to single out a comment for writing. I think, it goes both ways. If you can comment on someones post, I think someone should be able to comment on a reply. Especially one that has struck a nerve as this one has.