Sing along if you know the song

One of the bloggers I frequent had a recent post outlining some of the things she hates about other bloggers. This seems to be a common theme among the blogged: We love to hate other writers.

Or maybe that's a trait for writers in general. My fellow writers and I love to hate on crappy writers. If we find a link to a poorly written piece, we'll pass it around like some terrible viral e-mail about a kid who died after drinking purple Kool-aide spiked with Resolve carpet cleaner. We revel in it.

Not to be outdone, I too have a blogger I love to hate. I can't say what it is in particular that I don't like, maybe it's her superior attitude about things. For instance, she published a book about being a blogger, No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Great Ideas for Your Blog. And upon reading her blog, you have to wonder if she's ever read her own book.

But she really pissed me off with her snappy little article on iPod ettiquette.

I am a huge fan of my iPod, since the day the tiny little sliver first fit in my hand. It is my favorite gift of all time. I wear it where I want, especially at work when I need to drown out the silence in order to be creative. I wear it in the car, at the grocery store and to Wal-Mart and by God, I will sing along -- often out loud.

This is a highly personal and private little contraption. It is programmed just for me and it fits only in my ears. How the hell does that bother you? If you happen to catch a strand of music because the volume is at max, then keep moving down the aisle, it will fade. If I tap my foot or even hum a little, ignore me as is your God-given right.

But if you want to sing along, I'll gladly share. "Disenchanted lullaby, sing me yours and I'll sing you mine."

Oh, and by the way, I had a shitty frozen dinner for lunch, a blueberry yogurt and a giant chocolate chip cookie.