ernie redux

As I was waiting to see the doctor last Friday, my cellphone rang. I looked at the number, didn’t recognize it, weighed the xeroxed notice banning cellphone use against my boredom against the chance that it was no one I knew and/or wanted to speak to, and chose to answer the call.

“Hi, uh, Chelsea,” said a fuzzily familiar voice, “it’s Ernie.”

Ernie. Huh. Ernie was my last live-in boyfriend; we broke up in May 2003. Ernie and I are at the same university, in the same department, studying the same area of literature. This year, Ernie has a fellowship to write his dissertation, so I rarely ever see him. It was therefore odd to hear his voice. We don’t call each other. We aren’t friends. We aren’t enemies, or at least we weren’t enemies before, to clumsily foreshadow the end of this story.

“So,” said Ernie, “I’ve been reading your blog for the last year.”

Huh. I thought. This can’t be good.

I have not been kind to Ernie in my writing. I have not been exactly fair, if to be exactly fair is to be certain to tell the good in equal weight to the bad and the ugly. I have not been fair if to be fair is to be careful not to write things that would unquestionably hurt my ex-boyfriend’s feelings were he to read them. I have not been fair if to be fair is to be sure to muddle with time and place and identifying details as to make all personages unrecognizable.

In his eyes, I have not been fair, and to be fair to Ernie, I admit I have not been fair. I shall return to fairness, in a moment.

On his end of the conversation, Ernie stormed on, the wind whipping his voice away from his cellphone while I sat in the doctor’s office, one ear alert to the happy possibility of my name finally being called, of my being summoned to the inner clinical sanctum.

“Yes,” said Ernie,” your blog is brilliant, as you know.” I thanked him, and then I told him where I was and why this time might not be the right time to discuss this matter.

Ernie kept on keeping on. “Well,” he said, “some of the things you said about me were quite nice and others were quite hurtful. But what really concerns me,” he said, “is how mutual acquaintances have been calling me ‘Ernie’ in my presence and laughing.”

Ernie is, of course, not Ernie’s real name, as my real name is not Chelsea and Donny’s real name is not Donny and so on. “Ernie” is, as most of the names are here on my pretty dumb things, pseudonymous.

As Ernie spoke, I kept on interjecting how this time was not the right time, that I was glad to talk about it all, but right now, in the doctor’s office, while I was sick, running a 100 degree fever and waiting to be called, was just not a good time. Finally, Ernie heard me, and we agreed to talk on Monday.

On Monday, we did talk. I spent the weekend sick and miserable and, when I wasn’t steeping in self-pity, I was thinking about this Ernie matter, and what I thought, rightly or wrongly was that it was deeply odd for him to have been reading my blog for a year. Ernie was married in June. He has a brand spanky new marriage that undoubtedly retains that shiny newly nuptialed smell. He is on the job market. He is defending his dissertation soon, well before I even have two fully formed chapters. He seems to be doing really rather well, so it surprised me that he would spend any time at all laving himself with the bittersweet masochistic pleasure of my written pain.

I also thought that I really didn’t see what could possibly be productive in discussing my writing with Ernie. For a variety of reasons, I feel very adamantly that I’m not going to be bullied into taking down posts, and so that wasn’t even a topic I would consider discussing. Finally, I felt that if people are referring to him as “Ernie” in his presence, the man here known as “Ernie” should take it up with them, not me.

I carried all of this thinking into the conversation, which may or may not have been positive. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t. But when I called Ernie on Monday, I began by telling him essentially what I’ve just outlined: that I didn’t feel he should be reading my blog; that I wasn’t going to take anything down; and that he should directly address the people who have been making him feel uncomfortable, as I have no control over anyone else’s actions.

When I finished, Ernie said, “It really hurt to read that you never really loved me.” I responded that I’d never exactly written that, and he, essentially, told me to be quiet and listen.

Listen I did.

Ernie, to employ an expression that I’ve used here before and which I actually stole from him, held forth as Mussolini from the balcony. He unleashed. He let loose. He held nothing back. His voice shook with anger, and his breath ran ragged at the ends of his running sentences. He didn’t pause, he didn’t stutter, he didn’t hesitate, he put his verbal pedal to the medal and he went for it unimpeded. He was an emotional juggernaut. He was like Mohammed Ali, and I felt like George Foreman all fatigued from slugging and flagging under Ernie’s forceful words hitting me like big hard fists.

He was hurt, he said. He felt betrayed by the intimacies I’d exposed here. He felt humiliated. He was, quite simply, incensed with anger and bitter with pain.

And to be fair, Ernie has a point. I didn’t, when I wrote the things I’ve written about him, soften any blows. There are very few moments when I linger rosy on the charming moments I spent with Ernie. I have not, for example, expressed how warm and accepting his family was of me, how they took me in on holidays and generously supported our relationship. I have not, for example, narrated stories of Ernie’s bigheartedness, of how he would go out of his way to try to make me happy, of how he bought me food and cooked for me, of how when he moved out he left behind a lovely vintage lamp and a numbered print, just because I really liked them.

I have not written about how during the weird apocalyptic days right after 9/11, I clung to Ernie because I needed and loved him. I haven’t in short, written about how I loved him. And that was really not fair.

I have, instead, chosen to write and write again about how I ought not to chosen to be with Ernie, how it was a bad decision I made with the best of intents, and how I manipulated the relationship to serve my own confused, pained needs. I have taken my anger out on Ernie on these pages, and that might or might not be fair, depending on your point of view, but I wrote what I wrote because I needed to figure it out and, in the end, forgive myself for it all.

I have made other mistakes. I should have been far more cognizant than I was of the fact that mutual acquaintances do read this writing and that they might view Ernie differently because of what I wrote. I did not, however, think of this point, and that was a gross oversight on my part. I can only say that when I started writing these pretty dumb things, I had no idea what they were or where they were going or who might read; it was all new and it was all freeing, and I suppose I was a bit drunk on it all.

I would be lying if I didn’t admit that some small part of me didn’t hope to hurt Ernie with what I wrote. I am a very flawed human, and I can’t help wanting to hurt a person who caused me pain. I would be remiss if I didn’t take responsibility if I didn’t admit that small sadism. I would also be lying if I said I don’t regret it now.

Perhaps our conversation might have gone differently had I not opened with my staunch refusal to discuss my writing; perhaps then we could have had a conversation. Perhaps then what Ernie would have said to me would have been less a diatribe and more of a discussion. But perhaps not. Perhaps Ernie just felt so angry that nothing but invective would have sufficed.

He talked and he talked. He told me that he felt like a caged animal never knowing if he’d come home to find me a suicide. He told me that I’d revealed myself to be a horrible human being. He finished by saying this: “If you live a long, happy life filled with prosperity and lots of friends, or if you die soon, after a short, cold, miserable existence, I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with you again, ever.”

If it was Ernie’s desire was to hurt me, he succeeded. If it was his intent to make me think about what I’ve written, to take responsibility for it in ways that I hadn’t before, he’s done that too.

I really don’t know how to end this piece. I’m assuming that Ernie isn’t reading my blog anymore, but if he is: I’m sorry I hurt you as I did.

Beyond that, I really don’t know what to say. I wish I could make it better, do it differently, be more fair, have a do-over, be kind and rewind, but I can't. I have made mistakes, and I apologize for them.

Comments

[Orv]

As a blogger who has had personal relationships hurt, and lost access to things I dreamed of doing, because I did not think I would be read by anybody involved, and hence was careless with the truth, the official truth anyway, and careless with others' hearts, I surely sympathize.

I've often thought that you were a tad negative about some of your past relationships, given that they lasted for a while and must have given you something; perhaps it would be good to share the good bits of them too.

But it won't help, of course. And as one bitten in the ass myself, about a year ago, let me tell you this: the getting bitten in the ass part actually doesn't stop, it keeps coming back like last night's drunken pizza on the morning after. Sorry to share this, but it goes on and on. Brace yourself.

And because it goes on and on, taking posts down, re-writing posts, and so on, does no good at all. Once you put it out there is it out there forever, and cannot be recalled. GM may be able to do that; joe/josephine blogger just can't, and just shouldn't waste time and effort and tears trying. The toothpaste is out of the tube, the eggs are scrambled, and it simply cannot be undone.

About all you can do is wear the scarlett letter with public pride, apologize to people you hurt (which won't help much), privately fulminate against the malicious anonymous assholes that deliberately circulated info to hurt you and others in the sure and certain knowledge that there is nothing you can do about it, and soldier on.

What I learnt was this: the apparent anonymity of the internet is the blandishment of a whore. There is no privacy, in the end, and if you put yourself out there at all, you will get bitten in the ass.

In the blogosphere, we are all Hester Prynne, it is just a matter of time.

[badinfluencegirl]

i made a rule when i started my first blog (i have two now) that i wouldn't ever take down a post but i would edit it if the person involved asked or i later realises that i had let out a secret.

fortunately for me my internet paranoia (caused in large part by getting online before alanis made a comeback) has saved me a lot of this because i ALWAYS assume EVERYONE is reading.

saves me a lot of grief

doesn't keep me as honest as i would be... hence the second blog, the secret one that b.i.g. writes so i can get my other bits out...

and still i expect to get busted

[Rich]

Well, "Chelsea," here's the thing. "Ernie" can write his own blog. If he's really concerned, he can write his own blog and square things by saying, honestly, what his experience was and is like with you.

And, he shouldn't be overly concerned about what your mutual friends think about him. If they are taking what you said and making their decisions on it, then they aren't being their own people. They could be a little more authentic by basing their interactions with him on their own experiences of him.

And, "Ernie." If it's any consolation you make an entertaining character. Whatever pain you've suffered, you get a thanks from me for lending a little of your character to the blog. If you had no flaws, then you'd probably not be interesting enough to put in the blog in the first place.

And, as for not being "really loved" by "Chelsea," welcome to the flock!

[VJ]

Yes, you live, you love, you learn. C'est la vie & la guerre. But have you actually heard the speeches of Il Duce? To "h[o]ld forth as Mussolini from the balcony", was not just to be berated, but to be cajoled, enjoined, entertained, roused into action and imbued with a glowing sense of mastery and pride. It was not the most commonest of screeds of scorned lovers, of disheartened and aggrieved former intimates. It was the flowery and very well rehearsed awe inspiring rhetoric of a master political tactician. None of which I'm guessing you ever saw much from Ernie, then or now.

But I imagine he at least feels better now. Now on to the fertile fields of Abyssinia! Cheers, 'VJ'

[sweat shop sissy]

wow...talk about shitty timing. what a week to have an encounter like that. do you think it will change how and what you write about?
my 1st blog was used as evidence against me in my custody battle last year. my access now is so limited that even if she found my current blog i can't imagine she'd bother trying to take away the little bit i have left.
cheers
sss.

[Karl Elvis]

One of the great dilemmas of blogging is that one talks about one's life; and one's life is made up of pains and hurts and angers as much as of lusts and pleasures and loves. One will thus talk about both, and about the other people involved. This is no dilemma if one blogs out in the hinterlands of the 'net, unknown and unread by friend or foe; but that tends to be a lonely and short-lived effort. If one blogs for long, one will tend to collect real-life friends and acquaintances as readers.

The dilemma is this; how to express oneself honestly and freely when one has real-world readers.

I've struggled with this, to the point that my blogging first suffered, then mostly ended. The pains and loves and angers of real life first were topics to be written of obscurely and broadly; and at some point the effort was too great, and I began to censor myself further and further. It eventually squeezed all life out of my blog. Dealing with the feelings of my readers when they were also often my topics was simply too much trouble, cause more pain than it relieved.

Your blog is brilliant, as Ernie says. Not least because of your artistry with words; but what inspires me is your brutal honestly about your own feelings and experiences.

I feel for Ernie. It hurts to have someone write about you in a negative way, by name or by reference. But to ask you, in your place, to censor yourself to protect his feelings says more about him than anything you say here does. He needs to walk the fuck away and let you have your say.

Do not censor yourself, or fault yourself. You do not owe ernie a fair version of events. Blogging isn't about fairness or equal treatment. Blogging is about how you feel.

[tom paine]

This is one of those issues that will not be reduced to right and wrong, because it touches on why humans couple and uncouple, and the hatred this sometimes engenders. That you wronged him is almost inevitable. One of the nice things that Jane's Guide said about my blog is that it presents my wife's point of view sympathetically, unlike many polyamory sites that would have us all believe multiple lovers are as natural as eating sushi or acquiring a taste of single malt scotch. That's actually something of a left-handed compliment.

The truth is that words written about someone else can never hold up even a mirror to them, because they are taken out of context, are one-sided, but mostly because they're words. Yesterday C. and I read a comment on our blog filled with pathos and hope, and took away entirely different meanings from it. Are both meanings inherent in the words? Absolutely. Are both meanings in the mind of the commenter? Without interrogating her, we'll never know.

[TW]

Gee somehow Ernie made it all about him didn't he. The guilt hammer is the most selfish and childish manipulation tool out there. He should suck it up and be an adult.
Life is pain and humans are walking faults. Learn from it and keep on living.

[Artfuldodger]

I've always related this kind of thing to an old-style diary. If someone stumbled on your diary when you weren't around and made the decision to sit down and read it, well, that is certainly a choice that they've made. What they read there is the private thoughts of someone who never expected them to be found and certainly not to be read. Blogging anonymously is certainly akin to keeping a private diary, albiet on a much more public forum, but the relationship is similar enough. They have choosen to read, to break the seal of anonymity you've constructed, and make the choice to learn the private thoughts and feelings of someone who never intended that they read. As Karl said, this isn't a publication that has to be worried about fair balance, presenting equal weight to all sides. This is a personal journal about you. My two cents worth.

[ajooja]

When I started a personal blog, I wrote all kinds of things about a relationship that had just ended. It was very different from my previous (humor) blog, and I was in a lot of pain.

My writing has gone to shit, but I wrote from the heart. My broken heart.

After a phone call, I told my (ex-girl)friend about the blog because I wanted her to know how much she hurt me.

It worked. We began communicating again in secret. We became friends again.

Now, because of the sketchy details of her current situation, I have turned all of those posts into "drafts." I don't want her to get into trouble because of me.

I see her IP address on my sitemeter everyday, and it affects what I write. It affects how I write. It just flatout affects me.

Your situation is different, and I entirely agree with the commenters above, but the whole things sucks.

My heart goes out to you Chelsea Girl. Big kisses and hugs.

[Prince of Darfur]

Fucking bloggers and their mellowdrama. Did you notice in the comments here someone wrote, "In the blogosphere, we are all Hester Prynne, it is just a matter of time"?

This is not complicated. Ernie is what you call in the trade "very good material." Who could resist writing about a douchebag like him?

I'm glad you're feeling better.

[Karl Elvis]

Life is pain and humans are walking faults. Learn from it and keep on living.

TW, that fuckin' rocks. I might swipe that and put it in my email .sig

[Petra]

Girl, you are quite right, you are one flawed individual. You cannot hide behind your thesaurus on this one. You were wrong to be so revealing and you are wrong to hide and not pull the offending passages down. While I read your blog for entertainment, I am always remninded by what I learned in PR lessons in becoming a successful politico: big words show you're smart, but they don't get you elected. In fact, the opposite is true, as it is in life. People who use big words are hiding from something and they find themselves unlikable. So dare tell us your demons in normal language and perhaps you will like yourself more. Good for Ernie for passing you in life's race. Sorry, but I can't side with you on this one. I'm a bit disappointed.
Petra

[Orv]

Goodness gracious what a lot of vitriol in the comments. Its an ugly place, the Intertubes, full of ugly people.

The brave thing was putting this post up at all, and good for you girl, it couldn't have been easy.

[Enji]

i have not had the chance yet to read the ernie diaries, so i am going on this post here. it sounds like when you were with ernie, the pain you went through had as much to do with you as it did him. now, you look back and see that as a mistake, so your writing here showcased it all through that lens.

in this post you acknowledge the kindnesses ernie gave you, and acknowledge that it wasn't fair to mention that too. i too would hope he is reading this, and can find some healing from the pain between you.

i think what i don't see many bloggers acknowledging, is sometimes my story is not only my story to tell. if my revelation is another person's secret, then if i tell it anyway, i need to accept that i am doing harm. maybe that needs to happen, maybe that karma is worth it, but the harm is still there.

i think i see you accepting that, chelsea girl, by saying you haven't been fair, and by apologizing. it must have been hard to be on the receiving end of that rage, rather, pain.

i'm not so sure 'fair' will make anybody happier.

perhaps rather, kindness. kindness to yourself, as you were doing when working it through in this public arena, and now kindness for him for putting him through a public shaming.

what i'm not sure i'm getting...would you rather have started the cell phone conversation differently, so you could have heard each other with more compassion?

poor ernie, you're the one with the power, you do know that? that is why he couldn't help but read for the past year. that is why he can't help but read now, and hope that you at least acknowledge that you are equal. that you are both flawed, and that you both have divinity. that you did have love for him, needed him, even if that wasn't the best thing for you.

you are amazing here. you captivate us. ernie is a part of you, thus part of what makes you so strong here.

[Some Girl]

Fuck em all.

And if you start dumbing down the big words to reveal yourself to me I'm outta here.

[saratoga]

CG-

Wow.....so many rich topics, in your post...in the comments.

First, rest assured, Ernie still reads your blog. There, imo, two types of individuals- those who have to turn over every stone, and blame someone else for what they find...and those who have the discipline to decide there are things they just prefer not to see, and don't.

Ernie is still powerfully affected by you, and your erstwhile relationship with him. Let's just review the facts here- he's married, he's almost ready to defend his dissertation, he's looking for his first newly-minted PhD teaching job...and he's spending all this time and energy for a f***ing year wallowing in your posts about him?

Yes, Ernie's issues are with the mutual friends, not you. And as TW and Rich noted, Ernie can damn well write his own blog. He's a writer, yes?

Or maybe just a sort of parasitic type, who, btw, is upset that you got to press with your view of the relationship you shared. He's feeding off of your work, but blaming you for the effect.

Stones overturned, others blamed. See? I suspect it's a sort of personality disorder he will own for life.

For my own perspective on this, I don't read blogs to find out people don't agree with my posts, or don't like my blog or, by extension, me. I really do not care. My friend Lenora, of Enchanted Palms, refers to this process as "norming." At first, bloggers want to get linked, connected, read, for at least the perspective of others. After a while, as we become more secure with the voice we shape, we draw in some detractors. We might comment critically on other blogs. Some heated 'discussions' might ensue. Someone might go to 'comment moderation,' on and off, as the flames begin to erupt.

Then, when you do a check on the energy you are spewing negatively on these other blogs, you throttle back and "norm." That's what I did. I know there are bloggers who dislike mine, write their own brand of sarcasm or negative criticism of me, on their own blogs. Friends inform me. These people won't come to my blog to debate. It's more effective for them to simply shout from their own pulpit.

My own reaction has been to logically put forth, in a number of posts, why I focus on blogs which are congruent to my own interests, as I have defined and described them. The others, in my view, are simply too different to be of interest to me. I do not moderate comments on those posts, and none of the negative detractors have ever dared muster the courage to come debate my contentions.

The foregoing paragraphs may seem like a rant, but they are not. My point is, be comfortable and secure in your own views. Do not take seriously those who only negatively criticize you. Most healthy people, unlike Ernie, would have 'normed' you out of their blog reading fare by now. Not taken so much energy to follow it, build anger, then seek you out and vent.

What do you suppose happened so recently to motivate "Ernie" to erupt like Vesuvius? It's unlikely to be a random event. He's out of sight, fellowshipping. Maybe wifey isn't happy anymore? Maybe their own chemistry got poisoned by Ernie's guilt when reading your blog? Again, stones turned over, and someone else blamed for what was found.

In sum, on these points, I find myself supporting your views on this- leave the posts up, screw Ernie, you've done your public confession here. Case closed. If Ernie still has issues, they are his and your mutual friends' issues. Nobody forces any of these people to read your excellent blog.

Now to the last point. I already have liked you through your writing. But your publication of Petra's comment takes my admiration for you to a whole new level. You are one strong, balanced, articulate, courageously self-examining and intelligent Woman. Perhaps the single most interesting personality I have yet encountered on a blog.

As always, you have my interest, respect, and amity.

-saratoga

[S.P.]

When you're involved with a writer (present, or potential), you're going to be written about... good, bad, and/or ugly. We attended a wedding where both bride and groom are performers in the folk/acoustic scene, and one of the minister's comments was, "You're both doing perhaps the most dangerous thing of your entire life -- you're marrying a songwriter!"

Hopefully Ernie will have read and at least partially taken in your delayed apology, realizing that hindsight is always 20:15. Perhaps he will also find the inner fortitude to answer the jibes of your mutual acquaintances with the simple comment, "There's three sides to every story..." and go on with life.

You've done your part. Hugs, kid.

[merripan]

I've gone through a similar issue myself with my ex-husband. Even though I'd password-protected the entries I'd made regarding him so that I could simply get everything out of my brain and be more calm about it, it wasn't ok for him. He hacked in, read them, and then attacked me about what I'd written...

After going through all of that, and all the crap with ex-friends bitching me out for mentioning things that were bugging me about them, I've learned a few things about blogging. First and foremost: It's *MY* blog. I'm writing it for ME. I'm not writing it for anyone else. If others choose to read it, then it's their thing. But it's for me. It's my way of letting things go and getting them out, and it's a helluva lot more convenient than taking pen to paper a lot of times.

I try to change names where I can, and I don't mention specific areas of where everyone is, other than myself at that moment in time. But I don't believe that it can be a truly cathartic writing if I change EVERYTHING about the situation simply to please others who *might* be reading it and *might* be offended.

I don't believe in censoring myself for others comforts. I don't believe in apologizing for my own personal feelings at the time I write something. They're my own feelings, and I won't regret them. It's what makes me human. If they are completely honest with themselves, they'll admit they have the same thing going on with them as well.

I applaud that you did not choose to edit or re-think any of the posts regarding "Ernie" and that you told him such. It was his choice to continue making contact, however little, and read what was written. It was his choice to continue to be hurt.

You have my utmost respect for maintaining your own personal integrity.

~M

[chelsea girl]

Thanks you all for weighing in.

I don't think anyone who starts a blog really has any idea of what is going to happen with it. There is in this writing a strange feeling of privacy, even as one pushes the "publish" button, and there is no way of knowing who is reading, or what, or when, or why.

I can only take responsibility for my mistakes as I come to realize them, and I can only hope to learn to make better choices in the process, both in writing and in life.

I appreciate the people who have been helping me in this voyage that is my life, both here on my pretty dumb things, and out there in the real world.

cheers,
chelsea girl

[Chris]

Someone I supervised at work had a blog, and I read it a few times, then I realized I didn't want to know what she was writing -- it was just more than I wanted to know about her life. We all have this choice. Just don't read it.

I hope you are feeling better, Chelsea.

[Rachel]

At least you have apologised for your mistake.

This is the first time I've read your blog and already I feel like I'm riding the wave of an emotional roller coaster! You are a brilliant writer. And just know that now you have apologised there's little else you can do. You've made me think about how I'm writing about my ex and making me think if there are things I can add about him that aren't just negative. And there are, plenty infact.
Thank you for opening my eyes before something like this happened to me.

Rachel xxxx

[Sara]

All the "its your blog say whatever you want" people are forgetting that while its her blog - its his life.

I've read a lot of really thoughtful posts recently about this topic. Many of them are from parents, who are struggling with the issue of blogging about their children, and how you can blog about your children without taking away their privacy and their right to tell their story themselves eventually. People worry about how they are choosing to put the details of someone else's life on the Internet without their consent or even knowledge that its happened. You're writing someone else's life for your readers, defining it in your terms. And the defense that it was done anonymously only stretches so far.

That's power. And it should, at least, be acknowledged as such. Because while its all well and good to say "This is your place, you can say what you want," or "he can get his own blog and tell his side of the story," the fact remains that his life was laid wide open by someone else, someone with a large readership, who did it in such a way as to render him recognizable to people in the real world. All the nanny-boo-boo comments to the contrary, there is an ethic to blogging about other people, and it should be done with some amount of care.

[Steve]

I think Sara makes a really good point. There is a difference between a blog and a diary. A blog is meant to be read by other folks, a diary is not. If someone is hurt because they read your diary, fuck 'em. If they are hurt because you wrote about them on the WORLD WIDE web, you can't just say "fuck 'em" and I'm glad that you, CG, are owning up to that. You do the best you can, you learn from your mistakes, you admit your imperfections, that's why you are so admired. I've got two kids. If someone writes something about them on in a blog, it's the same as if they stood up in the school cafeteria and announced it. Actually it's worse, because they would not have the opportunity to rebut before opinions were crystalized. Blogs are dangerous things in the hands of the wrong people. If you don't think so, imagine a blog entitled "Why (insert your name here) is an asshole" witten by a really smart, funny attractive sociopath.

[Juney]

Blogging is a writers medium. Only talented writers will be read; others will be ignored and their blogs will disappear. Writers blog because they want the links, the comments, the feedback, the support - in short, the audience; otherwise you'd keep a journal or keep it to yourself. But just because you're a talented writer and you blog doesn't necessarily mean you have anything worthwhile to say.

You are without doubt one of the finest writers I have ever read. But if I were to judge you as a person on the basis of some of your posts, in isolation, I'd have to say, and have said - "this is one fucked up chelsea girl". The truth is that I've read enough of your stuff to be able to see something of the arc of your growth as a writer and as a person.

The original Ernie post resonated with me because God knows I've been chumped by a woman. I myself have also been a cad, and to say it all comes out in the wash is bullshit. My two cents - blogging does not absolve you of the responsibility to tell the truth - to Ernie, to your mutual friends, to your readers and to yourself. I'm glad that Ernie has caused you to see your time with him from a different perspective and I'm glad you've posted that on your blog. All that I would ask is that you add a link to "ernie redux" to the original ernie post.

Now I don't know this to be true, but I suspect when you wrote the original ernie, your conscious mind had access to all the ernie redux stuff, ie. the positive side of ernie, but maybe you chose not to include it then because somehow it would just mess up your brilliant stream of consciousness. A world wide blog, like a diary, when telling a truth has the inherent responsibility to tell ~the~ truth, otherwise what's the point.