After six years and countless lists of animal pictures, Vh1 finally shut down the Best Week Ever blog today. It was the first paid writing job I ever had, and probably the most fun place I’ve ever worked. A bunch of the other editors said a few parting words in its final post ever. Here are mine.
This is kind of weird, Best Week Ever blog. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say to you in this situation. Is it like “fun high school yearbook message” or “eulogy for a beloved friend”?
Have a neat summer! Sorry you died?
You were a good blog. I met you when I was 25. I didn’t know very much about anything back then, but you let me say whatever I was thinking on you anyway even though you probably (definitely) shouldn’t have. Sometimes when I accidentally Google myself and stumble onto some old incendiary rant against the “bullsh*t hypocrisy of celebrity culture” that I posted on you, without irony, UNDER MY OWN NAME, I cringe at my horrible combination of hubris and naivete, then remember I am likely the only person who will ever see this on account of your poor archival system and utter lack of Search Engine Optimization. Thank you for having my back on that, blog.
During the three years we spent together, I thought about you constantly. Were you updated enough? Was your content fresh and original? Should we do another one of those lists that people can’t stop clicking on? Were you getting enough “links” to get the “hits” that were important to your “traffic” so I could proudly talk about your “metrics” during our regular “progress meetings”??? I was like your proud, insane, loving, neurotic, needy, alcoholic, amphetamine-abusing helicopter parent.
Did you end up becoming something as meaningful and important as we all hoped you’d be, something that would rise above the increasingly shrill howl of the rest of the attention-starved Internet and demand the consideration of the lonely cubicle-dwelling, amusement-seeking masses who would provide us with the millions of clicks required to qualify you as a successful endeavor? I think so, maybe, sometimes, on your good days, when you got a big link from Digg or wherever and we juked the stats a little bit. But I know you at least entertained a few people, brought a little lightness to the world, and deeply confused my parents, which all seem to be the real hallmarks of success on the Internet.
For me you will always be the place where I first got paid to show up every day and try to make people laugh by publishing whatever insane thought plopped into my brain. The place where I finally felt like I’d “made it”. The place where I then subsequently learned to keep my goddamned hands off Frank Stallone’s veggie tray, stay the hell out of the Green Room, and go back to my blogger hole where I belonged.
Also you were the place where I spent some of the most fun years of my life, and met most of the friends I’m still friendly with today cause I haven’t alienated them yet. Or I alienated them, but then we buried the hatchet when I got a little older and less self-absorbed and generally mellowed out a bit. I’m exercising and meditating now. It doesn’t matter.
I don’t know what I’m trying to say to you here, Best Week Ever blog. You’re a blog. You don’t have feelings. You have rainbows and a hot pink color palette and graphics that may in fact be the last remaining relic of Vh1′s brief mid-aughts fascination with the “cartoon graffiti” aesthetic. But none of that really matters now.
You existed. You contain over 300 author pages of things I somehow have no recollection of ever writing. You managed to survive for almost three years after the television show for which you were named was unceremoniously cancelled in order to make room for more of the kinds of programming it became popular for ridiculing. That has to count for something.
I will always remember you fondly. Have a neat summer. I’m sorry you died.