Have you ever 'just hated' Xanga? 

No, I don't mean the blogging tools, the look of your skin, or because of the occasional failure to upload a pic.

I mean just the whole thing, the experience, and your attachment to it.

If you say 'no', then I'm the only strange one out.  But I doubt that.

I have, but it's hard to articulate why.  But I think it's because I've made Xanga a non-trivial part of my world.  And when, as it periodically does, real-world evil catches up with me and pounds at my personal fortifications, my Xanga experience seems, at best, feeble to come to my assistance.  Or perhaps I'm just reticent to share that real-world experience through Xanga and, thus not forthcoming, render Xanga non-assistive.  In any case, in such moments, my Xanga is marginalized and I become Xanga-estranged.   

So how does Xanga-estrangement turn into "just hate"? 

Frustration, I suppose.   Maybe, unrealistically, I expect Xanga to come to my rescue and when it fails to do so (or I fail to employ it to do so), I have no use for it and push it away by "just hating" it.

Or maybe, putting reason aside, I begin to see my Xanga as part of the real-world evil assaulting me. "Just hating" it in such moments comes easily.

Or maybe, without putting reason aside, I begin to see my Xanga as part of the real-world evil assaulting me. 

I've never gotten to the last 'Or maybe'.  But I've just provided you the perfect rationale, in fact, the necessity for personal Xangacide.