PERSONAL PURGE POST-PURGE

Our day of bellyaching 'bout what ails us has 'caused me to also consider what I like. I like this. I like that we all got to get it all out.

In her comment, Lindsay said that she was glad she could release her frustrations here so that she didn't end up expressing them to her spouse and starting a fight. Coming here may have prevented a [nonviolent] domestic altercation. What's not positive about that? What we've done here today is healthy. Yes, we didn't say nice things, but that was the point.

I believe that even though folks might try to think the most positive of things about others and the world they inhabit, nasty thoughts creep in. Like weeds in a flower garden, see. And in order to eradicate the nasty weeks and keep the garden glorious, we have to release our frustration. It's my opinion that a healthy way to do that is by expressing our annoyance to people who are inconsequential. I don't have to clarify that, right? You know what I mean, yes?

It's like we enjoyed a giant group therapy session today, complete with responses in the form of return comments. I sparked a day of healing via purge. And I didn't even charge you.

Please feel welcome to return next eleventh. I doubt we'll suddenly run out of things that jar us.

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Now onto your many engaging comments . . . it's my blog, so I get to respond in post form. I'm the lucky one here. We'll call it my remuneration for providing the kvetching space and encouraging purge.

• Julie, I'm with you on the use of "retarded." I wrote a post a long while ago on the same kind of thing using "OCD" out of context. It's obnoxious and rude. Ignorant and rude. Just plain rude. And it tells people that you are a social neanderthal.

• Larsie, Here! Here! on the blogs with music thing. It's a terrific way to guarantee I'll never come back. Also wrote on that a while ago. (It's great for me when you guys spout something that vexes you and I'm reminded that I've been irked by that as well and have even penned a line or two on the topic.)

And the assuming you'll have kids topic--that you even want kids thing, yes: it's altogether bothersome. Head to toe obnoxious. I keep reminding myself to write and post a treatise on the children thing, as that's a subject that's near and dear to my heart. Stay tuned. (But for how long I'm not so sure.)

Additionally, Larsie, the reason TSA makes you get nakie to your knickers is that you've got a hot bod and they draw straws over who gets to feel you up.

• Bad news, Misti: my iMac actually does give me super powers. It enables me to write blog post, send an email, create a banner, edit a photo, and download a song all without screaming, crying, or gnashing my teeth.

You mentioned bein' bugged by bloggers that post about each other time and time again. I sure hope I haven't offended you on that one with my constant Rabid mentioning. I'm just so pleased to have found this person as a friend and to see that she just might reciprocate my affection. I suppose it just indicates that I haven't made all that many friends in my life and when I do find one, I feel that I must repeatedly shout 'bout it from the hilltops.

• Weather, I believe that you nailed a dilemma that every woman can relate to. The bag thing. I don't carry a purse, I only have my sweet Hobo clutch, but I do have a big work bag, and no matter how big--for I keep buying bigger, I fill the stupid thing up and it's too heavy to manage. If I downsize I feel insecure about not having enough space for all the just-in-case items I find myself believing are indispensable (really, Megan, you need two sets of nail-clippers in case one fails on you? Really?), and then when I upsize I can barely haul the thing.

• And Jeannie, Jeannie, Jeannie . . . Yes. Yes. The apostrophe s thing. I was going to write about how much the constant errors in this arena bug me in the body of the post and--this is the gospel truth--I decided not to so that you could and when you did you'd be the first one. Want to talk about looking like a public idiot? People who pay money to have t-shirt's, sign's, and billboard's printed with apostrophe errors are morons. And they shelled out dough to let people know it.

Dude.

Here's when you use an apostrophe: when it's possessive and when it's a contraction. That's it. Not--gotta say it again: Not--when you are pluralizing. If you're not sure if a thing ought have an apostrophe, just find another way to say it and avoid the error altogether.

• Celeste, your comment on mothers who do their kids a disservice through their anal mothering habits reminded me of parents who do their kids a disservice by not arguing in front of them. Those kids grow up thinking that couples should never argue. You idiots. I'm not saying that you need to have screaming knock-down-drag-outs, but all couples will to disagree from every so often and it might get a little heated from time to time. Please let your kids know that relationships aren't always sunshine and roses. It's injurious and they'll have to cope with their unreasonable expectations later.

• Lindsey V, I am enchanted by your complaints about your own habits. Atta girl.

• Of course, Jessica. Of course you'd say things that made me nod my noggin. Dr. Laura especially. She's a bitch. Sorry, but it's true. (However, unfortunately she's a bitch who has a good point now and again.)

• Rabid, I feel redundant in saying that I agree with all your points. Everyone already knows that I do. But I need to echo your being sick of healthcare harping. Echo.

• Winder, tired of in-laws [that enable] you say? Let's have lunch.

• FatRat, you've bewitched us all. I was walking out of a medical building while reading your comment, and I had to stop in my tracks to take a little laugh break. I couldn't walk and laugh. I needed to devote all my energies to releasing a guffaw appropriate to your complaint. Too much sex. Of course you need a break, honey. But on that--since you're lower part is getting so much play--what is your favorite lube? We like--scratch that, we love--Badger Balm. I'm not kidding, that's what it's called. It would be even funnier if it were Beaver Balm.

• S., thank you. Thanks for speaking up on ignorant usage of "Nazi," "Hitler," etc. I've been guilty of such employment and I needed a live reminder that it is boorish and, again, the act of a social neanderthal. Come out of the cave, Megan. You can do it; come on out of that cave.

• Courtney, I can't read a pro-PC comment and not respond. I've just had too many bad experiences with PCs and too many good ones with my iMac. Life, my life, comes with complications. Relationships. Decisions. Reactions. All so complex. I don't need a piece of technology that is supposed to make my life easier actually make it more complicated, and that's exactly what PCs do. We Mac people might be a cult, but we sure are a happy one.

• All y'all: darn, maybe we should have called The Purge the Wild Rumpus and then, on the 11th of every month, I could write, Let the Wild Rumps Start! It would be sort of perfect. Instead, it's like we're a bunch of bulimics coming together to rid ourselves of the social ridiculousness we've been forced to binge on. (Awfully deep apologies if the eating disorder simile was offensive to someone. Like I said, I need to come out of the cave.)

• Murt, you said that people who complain about being pregnant are jerks (so to speak), and it reminded me of my sister, Whitney. No, she doesn't complain about being pregnant, instead she often comments that she cannot complain about being pregnant because her pregnancies are so easy and so many others either can't get pregnant or have terrible pregnancies where they are unable to move about and be as productive as they'd like to. I think it's a good reminder for other trials/gifts in our lives.

I believe we have a sort of right to complain. Life is rife with hardship of every shape and size and though we plug through them like we should, sometimes we need to just get our feelings about the struggle off of our chests; it's the forum in which we do it that should be restricted. Be polite. If you need to complain about something sensitive, do it in an appropriate environment. I find that a husband is a great option. He pretends he's listening and you get to spill your guts. You feel like someone was there to hear your complaints and he felt like there was the typical ambient noise on stereo throughout the house.

• Whit, I don' know how you could sit through those blogger networking events. I would be so uncomfortable were I to sit in a room with people I don't know or only know via their blog (which might be the same as not knowing, seeing as so many blogs seem to be lies about how terrific their existence is) and be expected to, in a way, promote and talk about myself. That's bad, but even worse: you have to listen to narcissistic bloggers extol their many wonders and drop names. It's the name dropping that gets my goat.

Furthering that line, on the subject of Pioneer Woman, I don't read her so I don't have a leg to stand on in regard to opinions on her blog--positive or negative--but I think it's rather terrific, that you called her blog narcissistic. Perhaps it is. But I'm pretty sure mine is too.

• Chelsea, I'm so grateful for the opportunity to have received and read your comment.

• Rabid, I would be honored to have all of you as my downline. Let's schedule a caucus to brainstorm regarding what we should pedal. You and I are Marmens. And I did grow up in Utah. We're sort of obligated to either start or join an MLM (multi-level marketing) company. I'm not much of a joiner, so let's start one.

Your lemon juice went bad? Was that maybe why my stupid dip wouldn't work last weekend? Bad ju-ju-juice?

• Rookie, thanks to you I will now get more creative in my food prayers. No more, "pleaseblessthefoodthatitwillnourishandstrengthenourbodies." I'll even be more creative than I was at girls' camp (a thing we Marmens do as teenaged girls) when it was my turn to bless dinner and I prayed that the food wouldn't kill us.

• Misti, thanks for returning to read the comments. I like that's it's not me you return for but rather everyone else. There are some seriously funny folksies around here; I'm humbled that they (you) leave their laughable droppings on my space.

• Señora, your phone number story is darn funny. I hate to say it, but I'd probably be one of the mistaken callers that leaves you a message telling you how funny you were to tell me not to leave a message because I was trying to reach my orthodontist and you aren't him. I suspect I'm not the only Remarks participant who'd be that guy.

• Julie, My brother-in-law is a genius of hilarity, and rather than calling someone a douchebag he will reference the SNL video and call them Lord and Lady Douchebag. Don't tell me that's not hilarious, 'cause it is. Fact. But my sister, the Rookster herself, prefers a more proper reference and goes with Lord and Lady Summer's Eve instead.

• Jessica, people who walk slowly deserve to have the back of their shoes stepped on, because it's really funny when that happens to someone else. My boss comes to town every three weeks or so to ride-along with me, and a few months ago he told me that he'd be happy to open the doors for me if I didn't walk so fast and beat him to the entrances every time. I'm an enthusiastic walker, what's to be done?

• Kalli, I have what may be a preposterous suggestion: if you're not a facebook fan, perhaps ditch it? Just an harebrained idea. Also, one of my best friends from college is from Evanston, WY, so I have naught but nice thinkings about Wyomingers. Because, as I'm very smart, I assume that everyone there is delightful like she is.

• Julie, please use the word carbuncle more often.

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Note: Some Remarks readers have apologized for using my comments to have discussions with one another that have nothing to do with me. Well you sillies, don't apologize, for I love it when that happens. It's eavesdropping sent directly to my phone! What could be better than that? Voyeurism without the binoculars and tree-climbing. Keep up the side chatter, children; I love it.

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What an obscenely long blog post, eh? Criminal. Please don't fear that I'll do this kind of a comment response every month. Today I was under the influence of the liberation libation seein' as I finally got that nasty expense report submitted. To boot, I felt gypped ("gypped": how's that for social neanderthalism?) that you all got to have fun while I was slaving away at work. Here was my chance to participate. On my own blog.