Tag Archives: frustrated

Mass Produced Comments: Are They Productive, or Just Pestering?


I would like to take a moment to address the actual, physical act of blogging. Blogging requires a great deal of marketing, writing talent, and persistence. You have to be prepared to commit the time, money (if needed), and of course, your blood, sweat, and tears. I, as a writer and blogger, can relate to and commend other bloggers for the work that they provide, the reviews they release, and the wonderful content they exhibit each day. Heck, sometimes I don’t even know how I do it while being in college and holding a job now. It’s shocking to me to see how students, college students just like me, manage to market and publish each day effectively. I’ve had periods where I physically could not write and had to take some time away from the blog to reevaluate the content (I believe in quality over quantity) and redirect my energy toward schooling temporarily. I know it’s difficult to be a committed blogger and I struggle each day to make everything in my life cooperate successfully.

But then there’s a side of me that feels like some (not all, thank goodness) bloggers and writers want to build an audience as quick as possible, and will resort to unprofessional tactics that I don’t agree with, which brings forth an ugly side to the otherwise inspired and intriguing writing community. I often get comments from individuals, including their business emails, with an attached, mass produced spiel about how fantastic and wonderful their company blog or personal blog is. They’ll preface this with what I believe to be a half a**ed response to the post they’re commenting on. A little “awesome job” and “great post”, followed by a novel-long comment about why I should drag myself over to their completely unrelated blog. I can’t help but roll my eyes. I get that you want to be successful and you want to bring in more views. So do I and the rest of the writing community. Success does have to do with readership. However, I don’t mass produce comments. When I take the time to comment on another blog or several other blogs, no matter what category it falls under or who is producing the physical blog, I refuse to spam others with my own advertisements. If the post is relevant to something that I’ve posted as well, I feel it is perfectly appropriate to follow my legitimate comment with a reference and perhaps say “Hey, I wrote something very similar that you might want to check out! *insert url here*”, but pushing your blog on me without any rhyme or reason doesn’t possess me to want to browse. It actually deters me and would make me significantly less likely to give your blog a chance. I don’t tolerate rude blog etiquette.

Writers, bloggers, many of you are like me. Many of you take pride in your work and your brand, and choose to represent it with dignity. You don’t mass produce your comments and spam them across the blogosphere, and I respect that immensely. I ooze respect for people who do the right thing, even if it feels “less efficient” at times. I know it takes time to produce your own blog, let alone respond to the posts of others. I know it’s difficult to respond to comments all the time and to interact within the writing community, one blog at a time. Whatever you do, try to avoid the impersonal, copy/pasted spamming of your blog, the long comments trying to “sell” your writing instead of genuinely responding to the post you may or may not (probably not) have read. Effective content brings viewers to your work just as successfully and ensures that your audience is legitimately interested in the topic you present. It’s essential to build a fan base that respects your literary talent and believes in the methods you incorporate in your writing journey. Easy isn’t always better.

What are your thoughts on advertisement-ridden spam comments?

What are some tips you could give towards blogs that are looking to build a more diverse, larger readership that don’t involve spamming?

Comment below.


“The Question Is, Are You Happy?”

I find myself going through my daily routine, engulfed by my own thoughts about what it feels like to be “happy”. I remember being happy. Happy was me at Warped Tour, swaying to the beat of some newly discovered bands and realizing how much I adored the sound of something new gracing my ears. Happy was when I sat on the beach with my mom, coffee in hand and gnat-bitten to death, awaiting the arrival of a new sunrise on the shore. Happy was when I heard one of my favorite songs on the radio like I had millions of times before, but this time, managed to belt out all the words as loud as I could with the windows down, completely shamelessly. I know “happy”. Happy has always been a good friend of mine, but has slowly drifted from my grasp as of late. He’s become someone who sends a card on only the holidays signed with just his name, someone who pops in and says “hello” but never actually takes the time to truly absorb my answers, to question the strange intonations of my responses. He’s someone that has mistakenly forgotten to return my calls, tragically missed my texts, and has found new places and people to foster his sparks. Happiness has become an acquaintance, even more so a stranger. As of late.

The question is, am I happy? Am I happy now, at this very moment in time and my life?

I feel like my questioning confirms my answer enough.

Apple Store Conversations that Make me Want to Turn Around and Say, “Did You REALLY Just Say That?”

Today, I was lucky and honored enough to get to come back to the Apple store to figure out my iMovie issues (so I can continue posting YouTube videos for you guys!!) and have, once again, heard a great deal of hilarious conversations between employees and customers. But this time, I’m sharing with all of you wonderful peeps. So enjoy, and try not to pull your hair out. I was tempted, too.


Customer: “I’m here to buy an iPhone! But I have a question!”
Apple employee: “What’s your question?”
Customer: “Can I take selfies on it? Like, selfie pictures?”
*then proceeds to demonstrate how one would take a selfie, accompanied by a duck face, like an APPLE EMPLOYEE, OUT OF ALL PEOPLE, WOULDN’T KNOW*


Customer: “Why is my computer so slow?”
Apple employee: “You have 25,000 emails on your computer. Can we clear them?”
Customer: “Can we just split them between all of my devices so there are less?”


Customer: *approaches Genius Bar* “My name’s Steph. When is my appointment?”
Apple employee: “You have 13 people in front of you.”
Customer: “But I made an appointment.”
Apple employee: “So did they….”


Customer: “I need to update my apps.”
Apple employee: “Type in your password.”
Customer: *begins loudly spelling her password, repeats process twice for emphasis*
Apple employee: “No, don’t yell your password, ma’am. Type it in. Right here.”
Customer: *continues shouting apple store user password until the employee gives up and does it herself to prevent further frustration and possibly an “accidental” “missing customer” crisis*

BIC Soleil: Blades from Hell

Let me take a moment to address an experience I had with the BIC Soleil razor this morning. I wanted to shave my legs. I had gone for a long run, and felt it was time to get ready and prepped for the day ahead of me. I get in the shower, finish the rest of my showering routine (the usual shampoo, conditioner, and body wash), and it’s time to get these bad boys smooth and sassy, or so I thought. Little do I know or realize that this razor is going to create the most unsightly little cuts up my leg and practically fill the bottom of my tub with my own blood, reminiscent of something you’d see in a horror film. You’d figure that a razor would only get as close as need be to get your legs smooth, but I think BIC might’ve not gotten the memo when they were putting this one in the works. I will certainly never recommend this product to anyone, and would highly discourage using these razors if you can avoid it. I have never had sensitive skin, and would never consider my skin to even be remotely sensitive. And lets be real. I have shaved for years, and I do, in fact, know how to shave. There should be no reason why I should end up with disgusting open wounds from a razor, of all things.

Here’s a tip for BIC: When I shave, I want to eliminate the hair. Not the skin. Stick to what you do best: making school supplies.

Below is a picture of the evidence. I hope this gives you, as a consumer and reader, some perspective on the aftermath. I’m done with BIC.


Random thought: It doesn’t matter if I smashed a mosquito into oblivion in mid air. If I don’t find the body of the flying intruder, I’ll lay awake all night with my eyes wide open.