Category: Social Media and Technology
If You See Her, Say Hello
I’m going to tell you something and I need you not to laugh or roll your eyes right away. Give it a couple of seconds, ok?
I’m starting a YouTube channel.
I SAID DON’T ROLL YOUR EYES.
I know what you’re thinking. Believe me, I’ve been thinking it, too. Repeatedly.
Go home, Crazy Brain. No one wants you here.
Send Me a Postcard, Drop Me a Line
I am a bad friend.
Sure, I have my moments. If you’re my friend and someone is mean to you, I will 100% make up cruel and crazy rumors about them without you even asking me to. If you’re feeling sad, I will stare at you uncomfortably and then suggest that we work through our feelings by eating them. If you’ve just had a baby, I will only compare it to my kitten a few hundred times instead of a few thousand, which is what I would do if you were just an acquaintance.
Your baby slept through the night? I don’t mean to brag, but General Eisenmeower slept all day and he’s still going strong.
Nothing from Nothing Leaves Nothing
I’m afraid I won’t be posting anything to this blog today.
I hope no one was looking forward to it or anything, because it’s just not happening. I try to make myself post something once a week because I think it’s good writing practice and because I enjoy it. (I don’t enjoy blogging while I’m doing it, of course. I like it later, when a spambot tries to sell me knockoff purses by commenting “Fantastic publish, very informative. I’m wondering why the other experts of this sector don’t realize this!” on a post I wrote about how drinking water will turn you into a mermaid. Then it’s fun.)
I’d like to become an expert within the mermaid sector, but I’m not really into the idea of grad school right now.
You’ve Got a Friend in Me
In the last month, I have received five Facebook friend requests from boys I knew in high school. “Knew” is a strong word in this case, because they have all been people that I knew of — we didn’t hang out in the same groups, we didn’t speak more than once or twice a semester and I can’t say I’ve given any of them much thought since graduating six years ago.
Maybe it’s been long enough that those facts have faded beneath an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for these guys. Maybe those four interactions we had stuck with them all this time and they felt like I would be a worthy addition to their Facebook feed. Maybe my shirts have been too low-cut in my profile pictures. Whatever the reason, they’re hitting the “send request” button and leaving me to stare at my computer screen in confusion.
I don’t know what to do because I can’t really justify not adding them, but I also know that if I’d wanted their virtual friendship, I would have sought it in 2008. I turned to the social media coordinator at my local university for help.
Yes, she seems like a woman I can trust.
Life’s a Happy Song
The last time I wrote a poem was for a class in college. It was about a shark who ate people and it didn’t end well for my mental health. I still wake up at night worrying about the Malawi Terror Beast.
What I’m trying to say is, I don’t know anything about poetry. I can’t remember the rules for writing a sestina, I’m not sure what differentiates an ode from a ballad and I wouldn’t know iambic pentameter if it systematically chewed my face off, Malawi Terror Beast-style. I can identify a haiku and a limerick, but I don’t know what T.S. Eliot’s deal was and I can never tell if e.e. is cummings or goings.
Pictured: e.e. stayings
Listful Thinking 