When I'm wrong...

I say I'm wrong, as is the case here.

I took a lot of flack and ended up losing a friend over the blog I wrote recently regarding Joe's appearance and recent behavior at concerts.

I'm opinionated and I admit that, but not so proud that I can't take responsibility for being wrong. That's the case here. When I read the recent People article about Rhys and his hearing issues, I realized that the stress from this situation is probably mostly to blame for the changes in Joe.

I was told (quite vehemently, I might add) by my readers that the situation was caused by sleepless nights with having a newborn in the house. I'm the parent of two and while they are older, my children were both plagued with health problems early on and I don't remember having the dark circles and forgetfulness. Friends have also had children and I hadn't remembered them getting to that physical state, either. That is why I came to the deductions I came to with Joe.

I was also told that his hectic work schedule was to blame. Again, I was (and know of many) a working parent whose physical appearance didn't take that turn. And again, this is what brought me to my conclusions.

I am still deeply worried about the weight loss and forgetfulness Joe has shown over the last several months and that won't change, but I do understand a bit better. I apologize to Joe and to anyone I may have offended with my initial blog (which has been removed).

My deep love and admiration goes to Joe, Barrett and the McIntyre family.

Enough, already

I'm not sure where to begin with this without it coming across as a target for further insults, but enough's enough. I'm at my breaking point and while I pride myself on having a great sense of humor, it's just no longer funny.

You've got your favorite actor or musical artist. You've got that supermodel you absolutely drool over. You may obsess about NASCAR or football. You might have a video gaming habit, complete with a headset, monster-sized monitor and your own online network of gamers. You may throw yourself into politics and comment about the President's last speech or what Hannity had to say on yesteday's radio show. You may be an animal lover and adopt lots of pets. You may be incredibly religious and involved with church activities. Regardless of what interests you, those interests are yours. They're something you're passionate about. I may not share your interest, but I don't push my feelings about your interests onto you. That would be rude. What you choose to do with your free time is up to you.

So tell me, then, why do you think it's okay to make fun of me for my love for New Kids on the Block?

I take care of my family, I pay my bills, my house is clean and no one is being neglected. I take interest in other things like reading, watching movies and television. I socialize with my friends. I don't force you to listen to their music or watch their videos. I don't drag you to their concerts or convince you that you have to like them in order to be my friend, so what's the fucking issue here?

Are you so insecure in yourself that you have to shit all over my fun? Really? That's pathetic.

In the last two years, I've had everything about my life, my hobbies, my travel and even my familial relationships questioned by those around me. They ask my husband how he feels about this 'whole New Kids thing.' They've even gone so far as to start rumors about the demise of my marriage because of 'this obsession.' Let me clarify something right now: It's not your business. If there's a problem between my husband and I, after ten years of marriage, I think we've figured out how to communicate with one another. We don't need your meddling or your 'good intentions' interfering with how we're handling a situation, whether it be 'this obsession' or anything else. I can't imagine if my husband had a gambling problem that you'd have the gaul to stick your nose into our marriage and question how we were handling it, so why do you think it's ok to do it here?

If you don't like what I say on my blogs, Facebook or Twitter, you're welcome to unfollow me. In fact, I'm asking you to. Who you decide to follow should be based on what you want to see. If what I say gets on your nerves, then you don't need to follow me. You're not going to hurt my feelings by unfollowing me. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. The same is true on my end. I follow people who lift my spirits and make me feel good about myself. If you're insulting me or teasing me all the time, that doesn't do either of those things. You will be cut. Same goes for being around me in person. I'm not going to reign in who I am and what I enjoy simply because you have a problem with it. That's your problem, not mine. Again, you're free not to hang out with me. I'm not going to be offended.

"Geez, Mel. When did you lose your sense of humor?" Actually, I haven't lost my sense of humor. What I've lost is patience. I'm tired of being made of. I'm tired of being the butt of your stupid jokes. I'm tired of defending myself constantly for things that bring me a lot of joy to an otherwise hum-drum life.

I've been a New Kids on the Block fan since I was fourteen years old. They brought me through some very, very difficult times in my life. I was teased mercilessly in school for liking them and I'm teased mercilessly now. And I'd like to think that I've been a good sport for twenty-two years, but I've reached my breaking point.

Shut up. Move on.

I won't be discussing this again.

***Oh, and just for the record if I hear the term "New Fags on the Block," "Old Men on the Block" or any derivative of those just once more, I will not hesitate to bitch slap you.