I can definitely dish it out - but can I take it?

 Sometimes, the temptation to snark overcomes me.

Well, given that my comic 'chops' are fleeting, transient, and ephemeral (and mostly imagined), my writing gaffes are often just poor attempts at humor gone bad.

Recently, one of my favorite personal finance blogs, Get Rich Slowly, featured a post about renting designer handbags.  I was a bit appalled that people would spend good money to rent multi-thousand dollar bags.  In an attempt to demonstrate my own clever snarkiness, I commented that I thought the site was about Getting Rich Slowly and not 'frittering your money on fripperies.'  Or something like that.

Well, my little comment managed to offend at least one reader, who called my comment 'ridiculous.'

And that, my friends, is when I had my spoiled brat moment.  I couldn't believe someone would call me ridiculous.  That hurt my feelings.  I asked my husband - repeatedly - if he thought I was ridiculous (wise man that he is, he feigned busyness to avoid answering).  I contemplated responding in kind.  I tried to think of equally appalling names to fling at my new virtual nemesis (but emotion strips away most of my higher brain functions and all of my cleverness).  And then, suddenly, I had that aha! moment.

I had put myself on the line.  I had expressed an opinion.  I had been honest.  And my reaction to someone else's honest opinion was the reaction of the nice girl I had been raised to be.  The nice girl who does not offend.  Who does not rock the boat.  Who disappears into the background.  Who feels bad unless everyone likes her.

And.  The person who had expressed the honest opinion, however obnoxiously, was the writer.  The person who had reacted with hurt was the nice girl.  If I ask myself, who am I - and who do I want to be?  The answer, uncomfortable and embarrassing as it is, is the obnoxious, socially clumsy writer.  If I want to be a writer, I have to accept that sometimes I may offend or displease others.  Can I do that?  We'll see.