Obscure title that makes you say, "Huh?"

My sister, Rachel, and I speak every day. She is often the first person I notify that my blog has been updated. She doesn’t have the desire to subscribe, and I don’t mind having her read it while I’m on the phone with her. More often than not, she doesn’t care for it, and yet, I’m never upset by her lack of enthusiasm for my writing or the act of blogging in general. I find her criticisms to be amusing, actually, and she doesn’t mind that I out her as the anti-blogger. I couldn’t help enjoy our most recent conversation about the preceding blog entry. In the words of the rug dealers in Morocco who presented us rug after rug for our consideration: Appreciate, please!

D: Did you read the latest blog?

R: Yeah. I didn’t care for it.

D: Really?

R: It wasn’t your best work. I told Ron to read it, and I explained to him all the things I didn’t like about it. But then, he kept laughing while he was reading. I don’t know. I asked him, “What’s so funny?” but he kept reading and laughing.

D: Not my best work?!? I always knew I liked Ron. I’m ready for you. What didn’t you like about it?

R: Well, the title for one. Usually, I read the title and I think, “Huh? But then I know that by the time I’ve reached the end of the blog, all will become clear. But this one was a stretch.

D: What? This title was probably the most obvious of any of them.

R: Yeah, and I didn’t get the point.

D: Are you kidding? It’s all about how I humorously complicate life by not providing answers fit for a 5 year old. That’s the point.

R: I just didn’t get it. Maybe it’s because it didn’t flow.

D: It didn’t flow?

R: Maybe I didn’t get the point and the title was confusing because of the flow. When you told Gabriella that Asher liked her better and went on to talk about how you could teach him dirty jokes and “teach him a thing or two about the ladies (should he swing that way). Laugh if you will, but I didn’t do too badly, you’ll have to admit. ‘You knew it was coming, right?’” That was a confusing transition. Who was saying what to whom? That’s what I mean about not flowing and being confusing.

D: I get it. It’s your Thelma & Louise critique.

R: My what?

D: Those random criticisms you have about things based on the most minor and irrelevant details that have nothing to do with the bigger picture. It’s just like when you had seen Thelma and Louise. You didn’t like it. Do you remember why?

R: No. And why do you?

D: I remember because it was 1993, and I was all out, loud and proud and all about gay rights, women’s rights, everybody’s rights and Thelma and Louise was just about the most kick-ass movie, and I couldn’t wait to bond with you about it, and you completely and totally yucked my yum. Our conversation went like this:

D: Didn’t you love that movie?
R: No, I really didn’t.
D: What? You didn’t get swept away by the story and the characters and root for Thelma and Louise? Why didn’t you like it? Was it too feminist for you?
R: I didn’t think it was realistic.
D: It's a movie! It's NOT real. But ok, I'll bite. What part wasn’t realistic? You don’t think that anyone could ever get into that much trouble? You don’t think that people would feel so helpless that they’d rather end their lives on their terms rather be judged by the very society that rendered them helpless in the first place?
R: No, I just didn’t think any of it was believable.
D: But what wasn't believable?
R: Ok, you know the scene when the truck driver is making obscene gestures at them and they get him to pull over and get out of the truck?
D: Yeah.
R: And you know how they’re miles away from the truck, but whichever one of them pointed her little gun at the truck and with one bullet blew the whole thing up? That could never have happened. You can't blow up a truck with one, tiny bullet.
D: That’s it? You didn’t like Thelma and Louise because you don’t believe that a bullet could blow up a truck?
R: Pretty much.

D: And that’s why I can discount your opinion of this entry. In the meantime, I’ve had more unsolicited comments from friends about how much they enjoyed this particular blog. And, might I add, a professor of English friend asked me if she could direct her students from her Fiction and Personal Narrative class to the blog to use as an example of, and I quote, ‘complex, tonally as well as emotionally, hilarious and engaging writing.’ So, I got your “it’s not your best work” right here (I'm grabbing my crotch).

R: The boys are just coming in from playing in the snow for 15 minutes, and they want hot chocolate. I told them they have to be outside for a half an hour before they get hot chocolate. Hello? Are you writing?

D: mmmm hmmm

R: You’re funny.

D: You’re funnier.