Apparently my Project: Proxy idea is lame.
Ouch, that hurt.
As soon as I posted it, I immediately put my day’s plans on pause so I could sit in front of my computer and read the hilarious ideas that I was so sure would come. I just knew that people would be excited to have me as their proxy. I was convinced I would be inundated with emails from people begging me to choose their idea first. I was going to cancel all my plans for the entire day just to stay on top of all the emails I was so sure would come.
Yeah. That’s what I did.
Until I realised that…uh…it wasn’t happening.
Of the four commenters who were interested in my cause…
-One said she’d have to think of something good and get back to me…
-and the other three suggested variations of the ideas I’d already come up with for myself (although, admittedly, Jacque’s ShakeWeight suggestion was something I had never heard of, and I sort of do want to try it).
(I mean, it does kind of look awesome. You must admit. Really, you must.)
But back to the depressing stats: four comments expressing interest. Four people out of the several hundred who read my blog yesterday. That’s like, a negative percentage (or something—meh, I hate math {which is too bad, because maybe if I liked math, I could have figured out the equation that Proxy+Camille=bad idea; as it is, I just scored a giant red F in social algebra}).
Which means that I am lame, because I thought Project: Proxy was awesome, and people who think lame things are awesome are themselves lame by default. (My apologies to the four kind commenters, but this does mean that you all are lame, too. Sucks to be us, doesn’t it?) Which means I must now mourn my lost identity of perceived awesomeness. I must lick my wounds. I must hide under the Rock of Not Posting until I can make believe that everybody has forgotten my unfortunate (and oh-so public) misdeed.
*Please, everybody: just forget that last post ever happened.*
That’s the worst thing about online-ity, you know? The extreme permanence of it all. Oh, sure, I could try to take a step back in time, back to the moment where I thought that Project: Proxy was a good idea, and then retreat just one moment before that, to the pivotal pause where I thought to myself, “Is that a good idea? Or is it just lame?” And I could try very hard to pretend that I made the right choice at that crossroad, instead of the very obvious wrong choice I did, in fact, make. I could delete the post and pretend it never happened…
…but that’s almost even worse. That’s denial right there. Because I know that you know that it did happen; I did make a fool of myself, all the while thinking I was the awesomest thing since awesome even became a word.
To delete the post would be like putting heavy makeup on a crusty, dried-out pimple after popping it in hopes that it would disappear: it never really does disappear, and it only makes everybody who sees it feel more sorry for the miserable soul who’s trying so desperately to cover up the horror of it all.
I will own my scabby pimple post.
But as a sign of my mourning, I’m taking an e-vow of silence until my scab heals up and falls off on its own; blogging again so soon after such a devastating zit-eruption would be like picking and picking at the scab until my blog becomes nothing more than a bloody, oozy crater—a pock mark of its former glory.
I think I owe myself some time to heal.
Don’t you?
Don’t answer that.
18 Responses to Well, I feel stupid.