11
Nov

It seems some of you have lost the plot.

So allow me to locate it for you.

1. First things first. Thank you for stopping by. Really. And, I want it known that I appreciate all of the lovely, exuberant, grateful feedback I receive almost daily. I consider myself extremely lucky because it is a glorious thing to know what you are doing is appreciated and enjoyed. So thank you, sweet fruits. You’re very kind. Now. As for the Other Ones.

2. I must remind everyone that this is my blog. I am the owner, manager, author, water boy and costume designer. I can write whatever I like, whenever I like. Because it’s my blog.

3. I actually pay money to have the luxury of writing fruitybeauty. (As for those ads you see? Big earners. Huge. Why, they must bring me in at least 45 US cents a month.)

4. Blogs are hard, work. I write fruity late at night, on planes, at internet cafes and before my porridge in the mornings, just so you can get your hit. I panic when I leave it more than two days and I haven’t been able to fully relax in over a year, because I have a small bloggy child who constantly needs feeding. Many start blogs and many give up for this very reason. One of my favourites, Letter to Marc Jacobs, died this very death.

5. I have a full-time job, I’m writing my second novel and I have a family, social circle, boyfriend, gym membership, cat, Bonsai and Backstreet Boys fan club membership, all of which also require time and energy.

6. I began fruitybeauty because I had a serious surplus of information on
makeup, skincare, hair and neon orange nail polish whizzing and
whirring around my head, and I thought, gosh, you know, I should
really share that information around, because I only get so much space
in The Magazine I Write For, and yet there is so much more stuff people
should know about the products and services they spend a lot of money
on to make themselves look and feel good. I also wanted to make it fun and silly because beauty can be taken far too seriously.

7. I have the right to do as many or as little posts as I like. Taunting
me because I used to do it daily is an exercise in both stupidity and
futility. If you’re feeling ripped off because my posts have slowed up
you should probably head to the land of Perez Hilton where your
appetite for 6578 posts a day will be satisfied.

8. I can refer metaphorically to the fact groupies are attracted to footballers should I choose to. Because they are. That’s why they’re called groupies. Amazingly, this same breed of devoted fan also exists in the music, surfing, basketball, pro-knitting and acting arenas.

9. I can choose to delete comments whenever I want to. In fact, I can choose to disable comments altogether, or ban certain people from commenting. (It may interest you to know that most bloggers approve all comments before they let them go live.) I very, very rarely do, however, because I like fruity to be a democratic environment, and while I would have to say I find it hard to believe anything I write here is deserving of a serve, (unless a taupe eyeshadow brutally broke your heart, or a barrel brush once set your car on fire) I see that this freedom of expression is currently being abused. That the virtual rotten fruit storm is being orchestrated by people who as far as I know do not own a blog, (making them unqualified to be languorously judging not only my blog, but me personally) makes it a somewhat uneven playing surface in that I can’t tiptoe over to their blog and write ur blog sux n u r a ttl lozer!!!! under one of their posts.

10. I can choose to be offended when people get on here, people who can’t even spell, and diss the fruitshop. Or, I can simply choose to write a post reminding them of what – and indeed who – it is exactly they are spitting venom at so that they understand that they have completely missed the point of a blog that was created out of love and not for any kind of gain, and then send them love, because it is sad that I am kicking so much ass, and they are not.

11. I can elect to hold my knife in either hand when I eat, because I am ambidextrous with my cutlery.

Rotten

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