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Happy New Year

Try to make it happy. Do your best. If this requires copious amounts of booze, that’s okay. I’m spending NYE with my mom, eggnog with rum, and chocolate from Russia.

We had a full day. It was full of things that required a minimal amount of movement, but made it seem like time well spent. We left at 11 so I could get a teeth cleaning. The doctor numbed my mouth because she knew it was going to be brutal. I can’t count the number of times she said “floss”. I’m sorry my bleeding gums anger you.

We headed over to the mall and I got my hair did. My bangs needed a major trim and I think the dresser managed to get them straight this time. At least my mom hasn’t threatened yet to grab scissors and “fix it”. We then saw Wreck It Ralph. It was one of the best cartoon films I’ve seen recently. There was a quick trip to Michaels. I was reminded why neither of us are let in there. Several chachkes and 2 My Little Pony activity books later we left and hit the liquor store.

So now we sit in silence until we can come up with something meaningful to do in our last hours of 2012. I’m putting up my last post of this month (and this year). I probably won’t keep up the daily routine anymore, but I’m proud that I managed to go every day (minus one) of December and realize I have the willpower to accomplish a goal. I’m going to use that momentum this upcoming year. I will do my best. If it doesn’t seem like I am, you have permission to post angry comments on my Facebook page.

Have fun to anyone venturing out to New Years’ Eve parties. I think I’m in for the night. I’m thankful that I managed to get through the day without tripping on black ice.


You Can’t Erase Yourself

Embrace the life that the Internet has chosen for you. All the pictures create your image. Your home is made of everything you’ve created a profile for. The anonymous commenters you’ve argued with are your noisy neighbors and your regular YouTube vloggers are the people you have coffee and a chat with.

It has been over 12 years that I have been active on the Internet. Sometimes I stop and try to think hard of all the places where I participated in discussions or signed up to be a part of a community. I’m recently battling with online sites to find IRL friends. I have made decisions to put time and effort into attractive profiles, but flee in terror when something comes along that could lead to a *physical* meeting. My life and ideas exist more fully online. I can talk to someone in person, but I remember that I have a blog where they can see how good my writing is or tumblr where they can see what I find funny or beautiful or they could find my old LJ and see what a complaining bitch I can be, but also how I see the world and my dreams. The real life me can’t be summarized in a profile, but I wish it could.

That went a little off the mark of what I originally wanted to say. I wanted to explore those weird niches that I fit into online. For a long time, when I first entered this digital world, I didn’t care who knew what about me. Those words I’ve said fill the background radiation of my Internet universe. I really liked posting to a site called Divine Whispers to defend my liberal religious paganism and to grow as someone of faith. I joined this site before deciding to become a religion major. I think I should have foreseen that decision. Anyway, I haven’t posted in forever, but my words are still there for anyone who wants to see all the biggest arguments from early 2000s. (I also tried to post on pro-Pagan boards like Witches’ Voice, but found it much more fun to face challenges from people who were serious about stupid opinions.)

I was reminded of this topic because I haven’t posted to my LiveJournal recently, but occasionally the little LJ bots will spam a post so I’ll see, “I am doing research for my university thesis, thanks for your great points, now I am acting on a sudden impulse.” Yeah. Yeah, that’s great. Today I got one such e-mail and it was on a huge post about dreams. This was from 3 years ago. I remember the details. I mourn now not keeping that journal up, but from 2004 to 2010 I made enough posts to make it worth having.


I did *not* make enough comments on Dead Nigel’s DeadJournal to warrant its existence. Apparently I wanted to make an advice column based on Dead Nigel. I think most of the questioners were ex-boyfriends and my roommate. I’m kind of glad I let that one go.

For years my high school friends and I maintained a website on a character we called “The Evil Elf”. I know we actively took it down, but part of me always hopes I can find some scraps of it that exist. The e-mail address I had is no longer in use and Anglefire didn’t have any other personal info. So I guess that part of my Internet self is gone, but my real self remembers… and cringes.

During college I had an Emory Learnlink… message board thing. Learnlink was our inter-college mail system. My message board was called “Of Gods and Men”. My friends thought it was cool. At least they told me it was. I will accept this delusion. It had sub-boards for different topics. I guess it was like Reddit, only we knew the identities of the flamers. That didn’t make the trolls any less bold. Unfortunately we all graduated and got kicked off the LL so alas “Of Gods and Men” is no longer active.

I’ve read webcomics that have evolved into monsters or disappeared forever. I’ve blogged on all manners of topics, including a specialty blog on my mom that has since been deleted since she discovered the Internet. If she read that sentence, I’ll have explaining to do. I’ve found hundreds of recipes and art projects that will never get done because the pictures make me feel inadequate as a human being. I’ve used the Internet to feed all sorts of weird fandoms (think Xena RPGs) and have been called a stalker by people who are one to talk. And I have pushed and pushed to have my meager additions to the world acknowledged. “Likes” “Reblogs” “Follows” and any comments (good or bad) can become an obsession for things I put a personal touch on. (I keep away from my Twitter account for the sake of my ego.)

I’m not sure why I went on a nostalgic trip like this. I could probably find more stuff in my Internet closet that hasn’t seen the light of day in years, but I’ll save that. If not for another post, I’ll have to write it down somewhere because those are the pieces that ultimately tie me to the ether that is The Cloud.

This may be the longest personal blog post I’ve ever written. Don’t expect any more of these out of me. I just want people to know that death cannot undo the scars I have left on your precious set of tubes we call “The Internet”.

Oh, and Big Brother is watching.

Here I Am

So I’m almost done with one full week. I’m reflecting today on how this month is going to go. Join in my reflections. Here are some things to ponder:

In the future will humans have hair? It may no longer be a genetic necessity due to global warming.

If guns are inaccessible during the apocalypse would you prefer a machete, a bow (or crossbow), a club with nails in it, or a tire iron?

How many hamsters can fit in a D-cup bra?

Will flameless candles be our source of currency some day?

Why do old keys look so awesome?

I expect a 3 page essay on at least one of these topics by Monday morning.

A Box of Anxiety

What happens when your relationship with a computer is tested? The death of a computer can be either heart-breaking or a sigh of relief. The PowerMac that Mom and I used in high school was a waste of space. It had an Internet connection, but I often walked to the library for their public-use PCs to save some sanity. And see the color red. The RGB on the PowerMac became just GB.

(This was useful for Solitaire, if you were willing to deal with all black suits.)

I went to college and still had to use public computers until sophomore year. I was elated. I had finally joined the American tech revolution (which had started 10 years earlier). The Internet was faster. The resolution richer. The downloading illegal songs… I mean research for papers was easier.

I’m not sure how to convey my feelings of a computer relationship. I referred to it as a him and felt like he was a pet, a part of my family. I can’t remember what I had named him. He lived for 6 years until one day the power button did not do anything. Actually, it went ‘tick-tick-tick’ and then ‘thunk’ and then nothing. If it just hadn’t turned on it could have been a power source problem, but I was advised that the ticking… that was the heart of the hard drive beating its last.

There is a moment of grieving when something electronic that is *important* to you passes on. Maybe that is my experience because I wasn’t someone who could plow through toys and computers, replacing merely for technology. Something beautiful had to replace it. I found a Dell replacement (which was put on a payment plan which spent roughly two years ripping me off) that was white and silver and full of promise. I named her “Dr. Girlfriend”… for some reason. I blame my ex for that.

For 5 years she has worked. And she has worked hard. Part of me wants to buy a new computer (as soon as I get a job, of course), but it would feel like betraying a family member. Three days ago she didn’t turn on. It was the same as before, except no ticking. And I remembered that there had been some surges earlier which would either fry the power source or the motherboard. One was good, the other a cause for a psychotic meltdown. I finally took it to the computer vet and was told they could replace the power source for (relatively) cheap. So that has been done, but for three days I fretted. Yes, I have a net book from my loving family so I can blog abroad or write papers or something productive. The tiny laptop is not the same. Nowhere near so. It is with the large screen and tower and separate mouse that I can truly feel comfortable.

She is back and working (and the guy even fixed my second CD/DVD drive which I thought was FUBAR), but it reminds me of the mortality (ed: I originally wrote “morality”, which may or may not apply) of our electronics. I posted before about electronic evolution, but I’m not ready to rely on the portable, easier to look at, faster machines. Am I the only one?

When We Pretend

I created this blog on the basis of it being random objects I found online (the original subtitle being “Excavating the Internet”). It was supposed to be a mixture of obscure crap and shiny objects. However, I lied to myself in thinking that I could blog without it becoming too personal. If I want impersonal I can comment on YouT… reblog on tumb… tweet? Words, why do you make me subjective?!

So for the last several posts I’ve been focusing on something I pretended to have a serious interest in: Disney. I don’t care that much for Disney but posted because it was popular on tumblr. Since I think everything that tumblr does is cool, I figured I could pass it off as something interesting for my WP blog.

Then it started to wear on me. I’m a 30-year-old researching movies I haven’t seen in decades. I wanted to be part of the popular meme crowd. I desire attention that I don’t truly believe I deserve (as I keep complaining about, sorry). I get anxious writing a post about anything. That may be common. I don’t know. Putting myself out there while wearing a mask of self-confidence strains on the act of writing itself. I have to make up self-assurance.

How do I take the me I want the world to see and make it less pretend? I don’t want to be the drama llama that I was on LiveJournal. (I ended up naming that blog “The Complaints Department”.) I don’t want it to be humor splashed with lots of pics of Tom Hiddleston as it is on tumblr. Funny but depressed, busy but lazy, self-centered but self-hating. All these things are me. If I’m going to be more honest I fear it’ll end up sounding like this post: confused and terrified. Where’s that mask again?

“I want my friends to think I’m awesome.
Awesome! Awesome, yeah!
I want this world to think I care.
I don’t care at all.”
-Foxy Shazam, “Wannabe Angel

I’ll try to get back into the swing of things. The main reason for this post: f**k the Disney Challenge. Here’s a brief list of the remaining questions & answers.
Day #16: Your favorite classic: Fantasia
Day #17: Your least favorite classic: Pinnochio
Day #18: Your favorite Pixar film: Up
Day #19: Your least favorite Pixar film: Finding Nemo
Day #20: Favorite sequel: Toy Story 2
Day #21: An overrated movie: Tarzan
Day #22: An underrated movie: Pete’s Dragon
Day #23: A movie that makes you laugh: The Incredibles
Day #24: A movie that makes you cry: a lot of them
Day #25: Your favorite scene from your favorite movie: (not my favorite movie, but) the last piece of the door scene in Monsters, Inc.
Day #26: Saddest death: Mufasa, duh.
Day #27: Your favorite quote:
All Aliens: [pointing up] The clawwwwwwwww!
Alien #1: The claw is our master.
Alien #2: The claw chooses who will go and who will stay.
(Toy Story)
Day #28: Your favorite couple: Miss Bianca and Bernard from The Rescuers
Day #29: Your favorite friendship: Robin Hood and Little John
Day #30: Your favorite Princess Castle: Rapunzel’s

And here’s a picture of the real me with an owl.

(I am chubbier than I have been in years. Part of the self-hate is not motivating myself on a number of fronts. But I want these pounds off! For the last week or two I’ve been seriously Sweatin’ To The Oldies.)

Entering A New Decade

I turned the big 3-0 yesterday. I promised myself that I wouldn’t feel depressed about it. Unfortunately I consider my life to be less accomplished than I wanted it to be. I’ve been in a “quarter-life crisis” for a few years and was hoping that by now my destination would be clearer.

When you hit a milestone it feels like New Year’s Day. You look back on your deeds from the past 10 years and try to figure out what made you proud and what keeps you going. I have been so afraid of judgement, but now I have to face judging myself. How much time have I wasted?

It is very easy for me to disappear into another world instead of dealing with this one. Hopefully in the next year (not the next five or the next ten) I can put things into motion so that this decade will be my best. I may need help. I may need a push or two. If it appears that I’ve dug my heels into the sand I need someone to tell me it’s pointless to fight responsibility.

This is a more depressing post than I had hoped it to be. I am going to start posting those fun Disney things again (I swear). To fulfill this promise I am off to write some drafts.

I’m happy that I was actually able to celebrate my birthday with people who aren’t family (but feel like they are). I can be reached through a video camera and found Google Hangout to be a successful outlet. Technology is a wonderful thing. Here’s a picture of how we partied:

(TheRob took this and I hope no one minds me uploading it here.)

As a side note: my posts are now being done in my real name since I’m also posting for the SOS blog. They aren’t huge pieces, but I am now an “accomplished blog writer.” At least until my internship ends.

Scratch That Off

I know my last post was kind of a freak-out. I’ve been going back and forth with the doctor (and his assistant) to find out the results. Apparently the test results were “normal”. I requested that my doctor call me personally to explain this. Unfortunately I had my phone off at the moment he called so I got his message which was basically, “Everything looks normal. The brain is supposed to be asymmetric so it’s fine.” I got my family and friends worked up for what my doctor says is nothing, but I’m still wary.

I feel the image does not portray a healthy brain. If it is something that I would be at further risk for, I need to know. I’m also disappointed because if this was evidence of an identifiable source, we could treat my illness better. It’s either back to square one or I take the results to a different neurologist.

I’m sounding whiny again! Blah. Sorry and I’ll be back to posting other content later this week.

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