It’s time for me to come clean: today is my last day here at Evil Beet. I know! Me, too! I didn’t really mean to just spring it on you like this, but here we are.
I began at Evil Beet in June. Nine months and and a measly 570 posts later—and I am not kidding, 570 articles really is piddling, especially compared to the work your editors Sarah and Emily accomplish daily—I am suddenly a little wistful about leaving.
I began reading Evil Beet six years ago (OR MORE), and I became so attached to Sasha, Wendie, Kelly, everyone. This website has buoyed me through some dark Cubicle Days.
Writing for you has been a dream and a joy.
We had a lot of laughs, didn’t we? I came out of the gates strong with my story about Sean Bean. Who can maintain that kind of momentum? I sure didn’t. Oh, well.
I did consider attempting to make all my posts rhyme, but that fell through, too. Finally, I settled on writing a lot of hypothetical dialogue. So thanks for letting me use Evil Beet as a testing ground for all that. (I do regret not having Fred’s daughter produce more posts. I was onto something there. If you’re wondering, I totally paid the kid.)
But there were also a lot of tears. You wouldn’t believe how much I cried at this job. Like, it was kind of weird. I cried when I wrote an obituary for Cliff Robertson, for instance. Then again, I absolutely cried the first eight times I watched some lame Katy Perry video. We’ll chalk that one up to “hormones.”
I’m grateful I was permitted to take so many creative liberties, too. Like, I experimented with Photoshop a lot—the first time was when I turned David Hyde Pierce into a bag of beef jerky. (I have also ‘shopped Oprah, Christopher Meloni, and hats.)
But man, did I ever overshare. Daily readers now know all about my morning routine and how angry I get when I am in line at the post office. They know about my dad’s death, but they also know about that time I went to the movies. If readers watched for it really carefully, they might have even witnessed my relationship disintegrating. And at the last possible instant, I suddenly remembered to not accidentally give our readership my mom’s mailing address. Oops.
Some random notes:
– Thanks for letting me talk so much about Barbies, Lifetime, and Jersey Shore. And thanks for letting me post that interview with Newburg. (I mean, I didn’t get explicit permission, but nobody ever said “don’t,” either.)
– I tried to research all my articles, yes, but the few I researched most were Narcissister, Brittany Murphy, and the First Appearance of Courtney Stodden. OH MY GOD COURTNEY STODDEN. You are the gift that keeps giving!
– Meanwhile, my absolute favorite headline was “Facialist to the Stars Finally Gets It in the Eye.” No, the story itself isn’t great, but boy, howdy, did I ever pat myself on the back for that headline.
– My career’s high point was when Joyce McKinney left me a delightfully frenzied comment. When I first read it I had a conniption.
– You guys taught me what an “accent nail” is! This made it a lot easier for me to torture my friend Robyn. Thank you!
– Yeah, I tried to be all sly about it, but I really was trying to get you guys to talk a lot about religion, politics, and money—all the things that we aren’t supposed to discuss at the dinner party!—and so many of you were right there with me. It’s been said before, but I’m happy to repeat it: Evil Beet’s readers are so freaking smart. And polite! We have really polite, smart, generous people commenting on our stories! For me, as Your Daily Jenn, that has been so fulfilling.
– A., thank you for being the Charlie to our team’s Angels. Also, thank you for being so cool on the phone, even as I panicked over how to handle NSFW posts.
– Emily. You are a badass. You make me laugh, you have covered my butt so many times, and also, your punctuation is pitch-perfect. You are a delight.
– Sarah: I can say very safely that people have no idea what responsibilities a Managing Editor holds, or how much work is happening behind-the-scenes, and as great as it is that your work is so invisibly deft, I have only this one opportunity to tell everyone how magnificent you are. You are so supportive, so on-the-ball, and totally ironclad.
OK, all done!