success, humo(u)r, and popularity


I’ve always been a sucker for a good fortune cookie. And not always exclusively in the, “Science is everything but I am indulging in the talismans of the folk people for some unrefined amusement” kind of way I pass it off to my husband, either (he doesn’t believe me, anyway).

It’s mostly just fun, but I also find it useful–particularly when it comes to times like this, the end of the year where we take stock and set intentions for the year to come. I already know my intention for 2017–I’m going to write my first novel, and no fortune cookie, Facebook quiz or horoscope is going to tell me otherwise.

So when this particular game of fortune was circulating about a week ago, I eagerly found my own three words for the New Year–success, humour and popularity.

Popularity! I am certainly a great many things (or at least a few) but popular has never been one of them!

So then I promptly wrote something self-deprecating about how the idea of me being popular was already humorous and posted it to Facebook. I might as well have put a knife in my eye. Forty-five minutes later, I had not received one single like or comment so I deleted the post, because there’s probably nothing worse than hanging yourself out in the barren winds of a sentiment like “hahaha I’m so unpopular! amiright?” and then having everyone ignore you. Probably.

And once I thought about it, I realized I’ve actually done just fine socially throughout my life whenever I’ve actually left my home and not immediately hated everyone (which are, I can admit to you here, relatively exhaustive constraints).

(Also, I just discovered that posting anything on social media after 8 PM on a Saturday is the worst possible time all week–unless, I suppose, it’s something you decide you want to delete after forty-five minutes.)

So here’s to 2017 and all of the success, humor, and popularity that wants to find me along the way. Maybe I can even work on not being so self-deprecating while I’m at it (PS this is why I like fortune cookies).

this is why i can’t have any friends.

I’m so tired of being harassed since the nightmare of our US election. People have been losing their shit with me because I think things like, if three different states show via recount that they all voted for the wrong candidate, I will go from sad to suicidal. Or if the electoral college denies the vote of Trump supporters, who clearly won by the rules of the election, I will go from sad to suicidal.

One woman who I’ve been blog-friends with for 8 years, to the extent that that is a thing (okay, a-ha moment, it is not a thing!),  straight up called me a KKK apologist, and a woman who I personally know lost her shit with me, personally, because I called her idea that the electoral college was somehow going to elect Mitt Romney to the presidency an elitist conspiracy theory (and from what I just read, it’s John Kasich, anyway).

I think that I’ve always been drawn to liberalism, in part, because as a child I thought “liberal” meant “open-minded”.  But if liberal means what I have felt compelled to become in the past few weeks, it means being an unfollowing-you, unfriending-you sack of intolerance for your intolerance.

And besides, social media is a bizarre and doomed experiment in which we track the lives of people we barely know in lieu of investing more fully in our own–perhaps because we are all ultimately sad and pathetic and doomed to death (and in these ways, probably no different than anyone else before social media or after).

But until whichever doomsday comes first, I have fled here, where I can write whatever I want and moderate the comments. I plan to blog a lot about writing–I’m writing the first draft of a dystopian fiction novel and I might even post some excerpts here to get some feedback. I’m also a stay-at-home mom of a new-to-the-Earth tiny human. I like to cook. I like to read. I’m married. Sometimes I’m a smashing success and sometimes I’m a total disaster at anything and everything I ever try to do. So, I’m really just going to blog about whatever the f*** I want.

The only thing I promise not to blog about is how you need to think, feel or talk about anything. I offer my opinions as food for thought, with my own struggling awareness that I don’t actually know everything. In turn, all opinions are welcome here, except the opinion that I’d see things your way if only I were as enlightened as you are.