What is my IP
What is plankingWhat does my name mean
What to expect
What does smh mean
What should I do
What should I eat
What should I make for dinner
What should I read next
What should I do with my life
This is a microcosm of what is going on in our collective
minds right now, right? My favorites are the existential questions. Because I
don’t exactly know what I should do with my life, either. Or what I should do,
period. Or what to expect. But these people think Google knows. And I kind of love that! Google has become our mom
and our dad and our encyclopedia and our library and our therapist all rolled
into a ball. Google! HELP ME!
(Also, I asked Google not too long ago what “smh” means.
Shut it. I am old and often don’t know what acronyms stand for. I don’t like
smh. I’ve mentioned this before. I think it’s stupid. “A guy paid me completely
in nickels and dimes for his purchase at work. Smh.” Were you? WERE you syh?
Because that seems like a foolish response to that situation. I’d be choumb,
honestly. You won’t find that on Google. That’s cussing him out under my
breath. You’re welcome!)
So! Anyway. (Are you wondering right now, return readers of
my blog, if I am this easily distracted and off-on-a-tangent-y in real life?
Yes! Yes I am. It makes for some fun conversations with me, let me tell you.
Sometimes people give up, honestly. They come to me for a discussion about one
thing and leave not only without the answer to that, but with a head stuffed
full of nonsensical information about things like serial killers in Vancouver
or the best quick-dry nail polish topcoats or how much I hate the constant and
inane flirting that these two gross people I know keep doing and I’m pretty
sure they are quite confused, but also maybe a little charmed. Nope. Sorry.
Just confused. And maybe angry.)
Google actually came back with a lot of answers to what I
should blog about today. And guess what most of them were? Dumb. Yes! Really,
really dumb. One guy told me to talk about how I use Facebook to increase my
social profile. Well, ok, I’d be happy to. I don’t! There. Shortest blog entry
ever! I use Facebook to keep in touch with friends, stalk people, talk to my
book club, “like” crap, decline stupid game requests, delete passive-aggressive
comments from people I don’t really like but have to be friends with because it
would cause a huge brouhaha if I refused them, tell people Happy Birthday, and
keep up-to-date with all of the theater goings-on in my area, because that’s a
full-time job in itself. That was not a helpful blog idea, guy. Fail!
Then there were a lot of lists with hearts and flowers and
lots of stars and such? Which made a migraine almost start? Which said I should
blog about things like “review your favorite magazine LOL” and “talk about your
crush but in a secret way.” Oh. Um, ok. Let’s give that a go!
My favorite magazine is Entertainment
Weekly LOL. (Wait, I’m confused. Do I have to use LOL after the magazine title?
Or after every sentence? Because I hate LOL with the fire of a million suns. Am
I going against some sort of rule, NOT using LOL? I’m going to buck the system
and not use it. Is the star and heart and flower brigade going to come after
me? Oh my, I hope not. I don’t really have the stamina to deal with that today,
or ever, really.) To review: it does not make me think too hard, but it isn’t
as stupid as People. It tells me
about upcoming entertainment, and has pretty pictures. Also, the book section
is really quite good. And Stephen King used to be a guest columnist but stopped
and that was a sad moment. And the bullseye in the back always makes me laugh.
Listen, I don’t have a lot to SAY about Entertainment Weekly. It comes every week, and it is somewhat entertaining while being about entertainment. This is an exercise in futility.
Talk about my crush but in a secret way? OK! Shhh. There is
this…individual? And I think he/she/it is peachy? However, he/she/it has no
idea I feel that way, because I’m a GROWN-ASS WOMAN AND THIS IS RIDICULOUS I
CAN’T DO THIS EFFFFFFFFF
Listen, I’m too old to have a “crush.” Do I have someone
that I refer to as my “internet boyfriend” because he is someone I only talk to
on the internet and we will probably never meet and if we were to meet nothing
of a romantic nature would happen because when I meet someone I’ve been talking
to online in real life I always sabotage it in some way? Yes. Yes I do. (A few
years ago I went on a date with a very nice man I met online. Who, listen, was really
seriously and not even being sarcastic very nice. And intelligent. And funny.
But when we met in person it was like I was dead inside. I was not in the least
bit attracted to him. At all. And also he had no chin. Like, there was his
bottom lip? And then it went directly to his neck. It was off-putting. And of
course I assumed he felt the same about me, so I was quite befuddled when, the
next day, he sent me an email telling me how well it had gone and how much he
wanted to kiss me but he’d held off because he could tell I was a lady. Aw. So
nice, see! And, because I am a complete and total heartless bitch, I told him
that I was not attracted to him in real life, but thanks, bye! And then people
said, Amy! You can’t SAY that. You should have made something up! To which I
replied, why drag it out? It’s not like I SAID “You have no chin.” I was vaguer
than that. I’d appreciate if a guy was honest with me for once; I assumed this
guy would appreciate the same thing. I mean, who would benefit from me saying
“I’m not in a good place, romantically, right now, sorry?” No one. He’d
probably just say, “Let’s keep in touch and when you are we’ll reconnect” or
some such nonsense! And unless there’s a way for someone to surgically grow a
chin, that wasn’t ever going to happen, and I didn’t want to get an email every
few months asking “Ready? Ready now? How about now?” That would be worrisome.
Isn’t it always easier to pull the Band-Aid off in one quick yank? Yes. I know.
I know, it’s rude to not be attracted to someone because they don’t have a chin.
All I can say is, you like what you like; and I like men with chins. I’m sorry.
If that makes me superficial, so be it. Mutter under your breath that I’ll be
forever alone with an attitude like that. I don’t care. I CAN NOT BE WITH
SOMEONE WITHOUT A CHIN.) Also, do I have various and random “TV boyfriends” that
vary depending on what program I’m watching? Yes. Who doesn’t? But do I have a
“crush”? No. Not really. The last real crush I had spun out so spectacularly
that I am not eager to have another. That was almost a year ago; I still feel
like someone’s stabbing me in the gut with a rusty penknife when I see him, not
so much because he was not interested, but because I put myself out there and
he rejected me and also he was a tool and I am the worst judge of character
ever and apparently THAT doesn’t change with age. So. Top-secret-like? Crushes
are stupid and I am not in high school and if an opportunity were to present
itself for a real, grown-up romance, that would be swell, are you listening,
internet boyfriend who has no idea you are my internet boyfriend and most
likely doesn’t even read my blog? Kickass.
But now, here is the BEST BLOG IDEA EVER. Ready? I totally
buried the lead, here. A blog that used a lot of pastels and swirly things told
me the following which I am not even going to link back to them because their
layout annoyed me and also I’m kind of mocking them so that’s mean: “What
problem is your blog solving? Identify a reader’s – or a potential reader’s – problem, and produce a post to solve it.”
What have I told you all like a million billion times? I AM
TOTALLY A PROBLEM SOLVER. This is a blog idea I can WORK with.
A problem I believe many people have, based on my extensive
research (“research” defined as “observations I’ve made as I go about my day”)
is “How Not to Be a Douchebag.” And I would love to give you a list of areas in
which you might have increased douchebaggery – or even worse, TOOLbaggery – and
then you can STOP DOING THEM. Your problem – SOLVED. By extension – my problem
– having to DEAL with your douchebaggery – ALSO solved. Win-win!
FIVE WAYS YOU CAN
STOP BEING A DOUCHEBAG TODAY
1. Get away
from the goddamn copier when you’re done using it. (Alternately – the
computer/fax machine/printer/binding machine, but mostly the copier.) If you’re
done with it, go lean somewhere else to have a half-hour conversation with
someone, or to collate a stack of papers as tall as your torso. Because I need
to use it ALL THE TIME. And can’t, if you’re using it to prop yourself up.
You’re welcome! (This may seem like a job-specific issue, but can also be used
in a Kinko’s setting, or a library, or anywhere else there are more people than
machines. Like an ER, for example. Or a chopshop. Or a sweatshop, for that
matter.)
2. Stop being
giggly. It’s like you’re sticking a sharpened chopstick into my ear and
grinding it around. STOP IT. You are a grown woman. There’s no reason to act
like a five-year-old. I know! You think the guys think it’s cute. And honestly?
From the looks you’re getting, it seems it’s working. But I can guarantee you,
your fellow women not only don’t respect you, they LOATHE you. You’re setting
feminism back 100 years with that giggly shit. Cut it OUT. If the only way you
can get a man is by acting like a minor, maybe rethink the kind of man you’re
attracting, because do they have a van with blacked-out windows and a lot of
lollipops and a bedside drawer full of restraints?
3. Don’t
assume the world revolves around you. Because hey, news flash AND spoiler
alert – IT DOES NOT. There are other people here! All of whom think THE SAME
THING. If 50 people can make a meeting time of 1pm, don’t email the meeting
organizer and ask him to reschedule it for 4pm because 1pm doesn’t work for you
– you are in the MINORITY. Why are you more important than all of those other
people? And what’s with the attitude, chumpy? You are not more important than
anyone else. However! Bear in mind that I am more important than EVERYONE else.
Then we’ll get along like gangbusters! (Oh, by the way, because we haven’t had
a tangent recently, guess who’s the Mayor of both her local library AND her
theater on Foursquare? THIS WOMAN. So yeah, I have an EMPIRE. Deal with it.
It’s quite obvious I am very, very important.)
4. No one
likes that much cologne and/or perfume. I mean, really. If I can taste the
way you smell when you leave the room, YOU ARE WEARING TOO MUCH.
5. Just
because you’re part of a couple now doesn’t mean you can stop using your brain.
I get it. You’re totally in love. And really, even though I’m a complete and
total heartless bitch, as evidenced by my “no chin hit the road Jack” story, I
am really, really happy for you. But just because now you are getting sex
regularly and someone’s calling you sweetheart and buying you stuffed teddy
bear-like items and helping you with the dishes and whatever else happy couples
do (I WOULDN’T KNOW DAMN) it doesn’t mean your brain gets to stop working.
Return emails; have dinner with friends without your significant other along
once and a while; start conversations without “Bobby and I think…” or “Betty
and I went…” at least every fifth sentence; don’t use “sorry, you know how it
is!” *giggle* *blush* as an excuse to get out of your duties and assume we’ll
think you were busy being one-half of a committed couple, therefore we have to
take up your slack and like it. As I said: love you. Love your significant
other. Also? Love your brain. Miss it, actually. Can it come back?
There. I have solved a problem. This is bound to bring many
new readers to my blog, readers who have an issue with douchebaggery. It will
fix them! I will fix them! I AM A GOLDEN GODDESS.
I think I also might have answered what I should do with my
life. Obviously, go around the country and fix and/or smite douchebags. What a
momentous day! Someday we’ll be celebrating August 10th as Douchebag
Day, and who’s laughing THEN? Me, from my gigantic pile of cash money I’ve
somehow gotten from this highly lucrative enterprise I just made up out of thin
air! Google! You really saved the day, here.
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Thank you for commenting! I love your comments and I love YOU. No, not you. Yes, YOU. But listen up, chumley. If you make a dumbass comment, I am not posting it. I allow pretty much everything, so if your comment does not show up? Assume it was too stupid for me to even contemplate posting. Assume it was SO STUPID that even READING it would, by extension, make the IQ level of my amazing and brilliant readers drop by 30 points and deprive them of their Mensa status. And we just cannot have that, can we. SO STOP, THINK, AND DO NOT BE A DOUCHECANOE.