The Velociraptor Strikes Again.


First and foremost, I would like to say that this is copyrighted material. No content herein shall be used without my consent.

Somewhere in the land of Jenny, I inherited the name Velociraptor. I suppose it's has something something to with the high pitch, scratchy scream that erupts from lips when I complain or get angry. The Velociraptor is not in rare form. Most people just ignore me. Some find it amusing. My husband rears back.

Josh had an evening off of work last night, while I was slaving away at the watering hole. When I arrive home, he had cleaned the entire kitchen. It was glistening, gleaming. I almost think that a bright light was shining from the counters, almost an Aura.

I had never realized how difficult it is to keep a house clean until I almost had to do it myself. I never had to scrub a dish, clean a floor, or vacuum, until Josh got too busy with work and school. For awhile, the house was a disaster. Eventually, I had to bring out the broom. So, you would think that I would be absolutely grateful for the help with the kitchen. Wouldn't you think?

Although, I was grateful in my heart, and even told him how great it looked, the tantrum that was soon to follow trumped every positive action I have ever said. It even ended with me saying that we should probably get another bed in the house, so I wouldn't ever have to sleep with Josh again.

I'll admit, my point is valid. Josh steals my photographs and uses as his own for his blog.

We went on a bike ride on Sunday, and I took some fabulous pictures. I really, really wanted to do the original post using these pictures as a photo essay of our ride.

When I got home from work, Josh had already taken my pictures and uploaded them into photobucket for his blog. He had even thrown a pilfered picture of the pug in for good measure. (He uses the pug to lure his co-workers to his blog, even thought he doesn't even really like the pug all that much.)

His theory is that since he was on the bike ride, and the photos were on a shared computer, they were in the public domain.

My theory is that he needs to ask my permission to use the pictures. I spent a lot of the ride with the camera in my hand, while he was too busy going ahead of me in a race to out speed himself. I just wanted him to ask to use them. That's all.

I suppose this is too much for him. He said that he was going to post a blog apologizing for using "copy righted" material and threatened to take every picture of the pug off of his blog.

And, all I can really do it laugh at how stupid we sound. Really.

Our argument was way blown out of proportion. Tit for tat. And I don't ever want that to happen again.

It almost brings all the fun out of blogging, which is something I adore. I don't even really feel like posting that photo-essay anymore.

The the moral of the story:

Surrender is faith that the power of love can accomplish anything... even when you can not foresee the outcome.



-Deepak Chopra

Okay, I surrender.


It's just best sometimes to let people have their way. Because, I love Josh more than anything. It's not worth the argument that my pettiness brings. Even though, I sometimes I just wish he would have a little respect for my wishes. :-)

Perhaps, I'll retract my velociraptor claws, even though it might be too late.

2 comments:

Miss Steffy said...

I know where velocoraptor came from :) Anyway...take it as a challenge. when jeremy tries to do something cool on the internet i do all i can to out do him..every things fare in blogging and war. Remove your gloves, as they say. Fight with great posts.

Misty said...

this made me laugh.
it's so nice to get a glimpse into another relationship and see snippets of your own. It's like men imparticular, get into a relationship and own everything... Thankfully, my husband never got into blogging (though he travels constantly and it would have been a fab blog) so I have never had to worry about that...
Be proud of your raptor heritage :) it sounds like a fantastic quality. (not the belitteling of another person, but the fierce and entertaining manner in which it happens would tickle me to no end. )