Supplication to the Gods of Television

A show where people watch The Joy of Painting and try to do what Bob Ross does. They should probably be drinking; in fact, the source material lends itself perfectly to a drinking game. Take a drink anytime he paints the indication of something, creates the illusion of something, or tells the audience they get to choose what lives in their world. Take a shot when he beats the devil out of his brush, or adds a giant tree in the forefront of what you thought was a finished painting. If he shows a baby animal in the studio, chug. Everyone is sincere in this game, because Bob Ross is objectively the best human being ever to live.

I think it’s clear this show needs to exist. Please someone make it happen.

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It bothers me to hear the word “survivor” used as a compliment. I don’t understand why we talk about strength so much, in different variations. If you’re “a survivor,” it means things are trying to hurt you, but you’re able to withstand them. That is excellent, for obvious reasons. But if we’re praising strength, it means we’re disappointed by weakness. And I don’t understand why we can’t admire weakness, too. Why are we so in awe of the ability to not let things affect you? Why don’t we admire a person who experiences something hurtful and is hurt by it? This preference is so deeply ingrained that I can’t get to the bottom of it; I can see from my own instinctive response that I’m too much in it, can’t tell what the shape of it is. But in my head, with my words, I think there are many contexts in which strength is not objectively better than weakness. Somehow and for some reason we have decided that it’s better. But I think this is a social construct

Actually

Wait.

No, I’m wrong. It’s the other way around.

Because as far as evolution is concerned, survival is the ultimate objective good.

And that’s what the problem is. How funny that I didn’t see it immediately! The problem is that we are humans: we are mammals.

We like to think about how different we are from other animals, but we’re congratulating ourselves preemptively; we have many more centuries to go before we evolve into anything really different. Most of our problems arise from the animalness that is inherent in our nature. Territorialismfear that other animals will invade our homes. Shunning members of the group that won’t conform. Glorifying strength and violence. Shaming or exploiting vulnerability. Fighting for dominance over competitors. We attempt to distinguish ourselves from animals with almost entirely superficial flourishes: smoothing and painting and decorating our bodies, collecting objects to surround ourselves with, creating industries to facilitate our decorating and collecting. And we focus so hard on those surface behaviors, we don’t notice the instinctiveness of it all, the way we operate on auto-pilot. Until we start questioning our behaviors, questioning our motivations and all the social structures we’ve built up arbitrarily, we’ll still just be another kind of animal.

Things To Do

Take kung fu, tai chi, or another martial art.

Go to ladies night at the comic book store.

Go to the last Thursday book group at Deep Vellum. 

Join the feminism and social justice book club I was just invited to.

Hang out with friends on my own; doesn’t always have to be with Mike. Hopefully he’ll start going out with G more, so I don’t have to feel like I’m leaving him alone.

Invite M and Z over for a movie, or to dinner on the weekend.

Buy more plants—because we can’t live in San Francisco, but we can try to recreate the feeling at least a little.

Use the apartment’s gym, or the rec center if necessary—just to be around other people.

Read at Starbucks.

Maybe volunteer at the Richardson library.

Thrift store shopping, especially for furniture and art, especially after we move to the new place—also garage sales.

Clean out old things: purses, clothes I don’t wear, dishes we don’t use, random knickknacks. All the things that just become clutter. Reread Marie Kondo.

Limit anime nights with my brothers to once a week. We’ve been doing this for a couple years now and I really like it, but it had become the only thing we ever do, and something that got in the way of doing anything else. We’ve been on a break since my family is moving and they’ve been busy packing, and I’m realizing that it’s a huge breath of fresh air.

When we have a house . . . A garden with cucumbers, radishes, and tomatoes. 

Take a Japanese class, and once I do, start going to the Japanese meetup again.

Watch more movies, not just television shows on Netflix. Maybe it’s silly but movies feel like an accomplishment, an intentional choice rather than just going on autopilot.

Practice knitting.

See if Glass Half Full could become our new Fillmore.

Go to H-Mart and Daiso, by myself if necessary, at least once every couple months.

See better movies. Look for international ones playing at the dollar theater.

Watch Ticketmaster, try to go to more shows.

Stop bringing home dozens of books from the library at the same time, stop doing reading challenges. Just read what I want to read—and read a lot less, as insane as that sounds to me. I don’t need to have five or six going at the same time, and I don’t need to read 200 books a year. It’s just getting ridiculous.

Try to remember how much I want to do these things, even when they inevitably get lost in the fog of depression. Think of them as crutches, ways to make life less miserable until a permanent (or at least official) solution is possible.

Solitude is fine but you need someone to tell that solitude is fine.

I’m pretty sure friendship is impossible.

In the first place, I have had, in my entire life, only one deep relationship where I felt like the other person cared as much as I did. It wasn’t until I got to college that I had a best friend who also considered me her best friend. And that was a really important friendship to me, while it lasted.

My late twenties and early thirties have been increasingly dominated by feelings of isolation. I have a handful of friends who I used to be really close with, but now rarely see or talk to; and though we still have a great time when we get together, we don’t have very much in common.

I desperately need friends. I am very much an introvert, but I also need connections with other people. I need alone time, but I also need other people around, and I guess the real problem is that I need them to be really easy to access because my social anxiety almost completely cripples my ability to reach out. I grew up in a large family, and even when I moved out of the dorms in college, I still had five roommates. I went to church regularly until I was 25, and because I was Mormon, church provided a detailed structure for my entire life.

Now, I’m not in school anymore. I’m not religious anymore, and I don’t live with family. I work part-time, and I live in a state where I feel completely out of place, so it’s even more difficult to make friends. I no longer have the kind of friends who keep in touch on a daily basisthe only people who text me are members of my immediate family, and when I do see my friends, it’s once every two or three (or six or seven) months. I am so fucking lonely.

I’ve spent the past seven or eight years racking my brain, trying to think of lapsed friends I could get back in touch with. At this point, I think it’s time to acknowledge that those friendships aren’t going to happenwhich leaves me the option of making new ones. The thing is, I can’t imagine how to do it.

All the aforementioned reasons I am lonely are also reasons it is incredibly difficult for me to make new friends. I am intensely private and insecure; I was bullied all through my childhood, and I’m basically a super-minority in terms of things other people enjoy. I don’t like sports, I don’t like reading romance or thrillers, I don’t like movies about white men shooting everything. I’m a liberal in Texas, an atheist in the U.S., a feminist in patriarchy. I don’t open up to someone until they’ve shared enough with me that I feel they are safe, and unlikely to reject me once they find out who I really am. And the only way for that to happen is for me to be around people a lot, for a long time.

The thing is, also, I have a lot of quirks and weirdness that may be part of my personality, or may be related to anxiety and depression. I have a deep need to find friends who are like me, who love the same things I love and hate the same things I hate. I have friends who don’t really read, and though I like them a lot as people, there is just only so much I can feel connected to them. I have friends who are politically moderate/conservative, and though we have a ton else in common, we can’t really talk about a lot of important things. I have friends who read the same books I do, but are also super into sports, so there are several months of the year when I just roll my eyes and scroll past everything they post on Facebook. I love these friends, and I love to hang out with them. But they don’t fill the space I need filled.

I need friends for whom reading is a natural part of life, who never say the words “I wish I could find the time.” We all experience the same number of hours per day, it’s just some people do different things in them. I need people who can’t imagine books not being part of regular life.

I need friends who swear, or don’t cringe when I do. I just can’t fully take seriously an adult who complains about “language” in a book or movie. It’s how people talk, okay? They’re just words.

I need friends who don’t wear a full face of makeup, who don’t get their nails done outside of special occasions, who don’t shave or wax their legs. I need women in my life who prefer to just exist the way we exist.

I hate to say it, but I need friends who are done reading YA. I am not the kind of asshole who thinks adults should be embarrassed to read itI’m just over it myself, for right now, personally.

I need friends who are sick of movies, because why are they all about racist, sexist stereotypes and cliches? It’s been a long time since I was able to get excited about a movie, and I hate how hard it is to explain that to people.

I need friends who are or have at some point been bigger than a size 8, because (1) empathy and (2) god, sometimes you just need to be able to not see yourself directly in comparison to someone else.

I need friends who drink, because I really like drinkingbut I also need friends who can’t afford, physically or financially, to stay out until four a.m.

I need friends who are interested in things, who like to learn things, who don’t treat me like some kind of exotic alien because I do geography quizzes and watch anime and study languages and memorize the periodic table.

I need friends who aren’t pushy, who are skeptics, who don’t try to make me Think Positive or sell me on their newest Life-Changing Belief. I especially need friends who don’t ask me to push something for them. Yes, I will like your business’s Facebook page; no, I won’t share it with everyone I know. I’m not a sales person.

I need friends who are liberal, feminist, and atheistat least agnostic. These are all places I have reached through a lot of personal growth, and I can’t start back at zero with someone else. I need people who’ve already made it there.

I need friends who honestly, genuinely don’t judge people for all the shitty reasons most people judge people. I need friends who don’t make assumptions about people based on one tiny piece of information, don’t shame parents for not being super-robots, don’t mock people’s clothes or hairstyles. I know we’re not perfect, and yeah, sometimes I’m shitty, too. I need friends who are aware when they’re being shitty, instead of trying to justify it.

I don’t understand why I need such intense compatibility. It’s an INFJ thing, so I know I must not be the only one. But that doesn’t help, because even though another INFJ might understand how specific my needs are, what are the odds that they would match them?

The Possibility of Up

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It hasn’t been a great time for me lately, but if some things that it seems are going to work out will in fact work out, then I think a lot could change in the next few months. I’m not a fan of baseless optimism, but in this case, the circumstances are such that it would take an unreasonable amount of bad luck to mess it upnot that I’m a stranger to unreasonable amounts of bad luckbut that’s where the optimism comes in.

A coworker is retiring next May, and her position is the one I’ve had my eye on for the past two years. At one time it was basically guaranteed I would get the job; now I have competition, but I’m still pretty sure I’ll be the one to get it. And if I do, that will be it. That will be the thing that makes this all work.

It will be full-time, so I will be able to have health insurance againand I won’t have to take the pay cut that I did when I left for the last full-time job I had. It will mean that my employment will finally start counting toward the ten years in public service that would allow me to get any student loans I have remaining at the time waived. It will mean that I can afford to start addressing my mental health issues, which is major. And it will mean that the city will offer tuition reimbursement, so I can afford to go to school again. I’ll be able to finally finish my poor patchwork bachelor’s degree, and use that to start working on the Masters that will, theoretically, free us to move anywhere we want.

I’ve been dying to get out of Texas for years now, and if I’m honest with myself, this will mean I’m stuck here for at least another two years, if not more. There’s a part of me that really hates that. But if those two or three years can be spent actively bettering my situation (as opposed to the Purgatory the last eight years have been), especially if they can make life a little more comfortable in the meantimeI can deal with that. I’ve never been a particularly positive person, and I don’t do Positive Thinking. I need to have a reason to hope. But that’s all I needa reason. If I have that, I can put up with almost anything.

Hurdles, Obstacles, and Other Metaphors for How Life Sucks

It doesn’t seem like any of it should be this complicated. All I want is to live somewhere comfortable, do things I care about, and see parts of the world other than the place I grew up. I’m pretty sure this is all a lot of people want. How can it be so hard?

I went to college for five years, but I didn’t graduate. I left in 2008 not by choice, but because I could no longer get financial aid, and in fact had to pay the university back a $5000 loan that they’d rescinded retroactively after I failed my classes in the fall of 2007. As long as that was outstanding, I couldn’t register for classes or request a transcript in order to apply anywhere else (after I moved away). It took me eight years, but three weeks ago I finally made the last payment.

Now, at 31 years old, I’m trying to figure out how to get a degree. I need a Masters in Library Science to progress in the career I’ve started, and I need a bachelor’s degree before that. Here are my options:

  • Finish the degree I started working on thirteen years ago at the college I went to
  • Transfer my credits to a university near where I live now
  • Start completely over.

Option one would require moving to Utah and finding out if the university will even allow me to attend anymore, because one of the requirements is an ongoing ecclesiastical endorsement and I have no way of getting one. The LDS church isn’t hugely fond of ex-Mormons, so I suspect that my chances are not great. Best case scenario, if this option worked, I’d be looking at two years, plus a cross-country move.

Option two is the simplest choice, in theory, but I’m not sure whether I can make it work. Transfer students have to be in good standing at the university they’re leaving, and I was on academic probation when I left. None of my AP, SAT, or ACT scores would apply anymore because I took the tests more than ten years ago, so I’d have to take the state standards test before applying and then take some of the basic courses those scores exempted me from the first time around. This would be my best case scenario, if I talk to an advisor who can make some exceptions for me.

Option three . . . sucks. On the one hand, I love being in school and would love the opportunity to get a whole new degree, especially because the one I started was largely wasted on religion electives and focused toward a career in editing rather than library science. On the more practical hand, that would mean another six years before I can get my MLS. Six years before I can even start the process of looking for a full-time librarian position. At which time I will be 37 years old.

Holy shit. I hadn’t even realized that until right now. If things continue the way they are, I will be almost 40 before I can actually start the career I’ve been working toward since I was 25.

The thing is that nothing else can start until that happens. If life was tolerable in the meantime that would be one thing, but it’s already been eight years of suffocation, massive student loan debt, no health insurance, untreated anxiety and depression, sharing one car, not being able to do any of the things we dream of doing, still never having left the country, a mile-long list of Things to Buy When We Actually Have Money . . . I don’t have a degree, so I’m stuck in part-time positions making less than half of what Mike makes, which means we depend completely on his income, which means he continues to be trapped in a job he hates, a job that drains him mentally, physically, and emotionally every single day. Because he doesn’t have a degree either, and we live in north Texas with only one car, so his options are almost as limited as mine.

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Lately

I’m trying to think of something more ridiculous than having months-long writer’s block on a blog about your own life, but the only contenders are the fact that it’s taken me probably ten minutes and twice as many rewrites to compose this garbage sentence, and Donald Trump (but that was a given). God, I hate my own brain sometimes. I have not been in a good place lately, and every time I try to write about itor anything elseI become mentally paralyzed and just end up leaving the draft unfinished. I’m starting to think I might never write anything here besides these little blog quizzes that I can use as crutches. Even this one, I started a few weeks ago and kept not publishing. How is that possible? If you know, please tell me.

Lately, I am . . .

Feeling: like a human disaster
Making: a new friend, I hope
Drinking: coffee during the day, martinis at night
Reading: Skeptic, by Michael Shermer, and My Brilliant Friend, by Elena Ferrante (finally)
Watching: Matilda, because I just read Mara Wilson’s book, and re-watching Parks & Recreation because it was finally time
Anticipating: my first visit back to Utah since the last time I moved away
Listening: Hard Choices, by Hillary Rodham ClintonI just finished a day or two ago
Enjoying: cooler weather
Loving: my sweet nieces and nephew, who I miss even after seeing them yesterday
Needing: to figure out how to afford a therapist and anxiety medication
Coveting: my friends’ travel plans
Wishing: I had learned things about myself as a teenager that would have significantly changed the direction my life took (such as aforementioned need for therapy and anxiety medication)
Wearing: all my long-sleeved shirts while I can, before the heat comes back again, because it probably fucking will
Wanting: a different life than the one I have, or maybe just to be a different person; I can’t make up my mind
Aiming: to finish my degree somehow, at some point, some way

Re: FWD: don’t read this unless you’re bored

Remember those email surveys we used to do in the 90s and early 2000s? I did several the summer before my freshman year of college, when my future roommate and I had gotten each other’s names from the admissions office and were trying to get a sense of the person we’d be living with in the fall. A few months ago I found one of them, and a couple friends and I decided to fill it out. These are mostly the answers I sent them (with a few updates), and the title of this post is also the actual subject line.

Okay, here’s what you’re supposed to do…and try not to be LAME and spoil
the fun! Just give in. Copy (not forward) this entire e-mail and paste it
into a new e-mail that you can send. Change all of the answers so that they
apply to you. Then, send this to a whole bunch of people you know
*INCLUDING* the person who sent it to you. The theory is that you will learn
a lot of little known facts about your friends. It is fun and easy MOST
UNIQUE SURVEY YOU WILL EVER TAKE here are some real different ones.

1. First Name: Gwen
2. Were you named after any one?: This is the name I use for internet things, and I named myself after tough women who make me feel stronger. Gwen is after Gwendoline Christie, who plays one of my favorite characters in Game of Thrones (Brienne of Tarth is the name I use for gaming). March is for Jo March from Little Women. I’ve always identified with women who struggle against the expectation to be “girly.”
3. Do you wish on stars?: Nope.
4. Which finger is your favorite?: The hell kind of question is that?
5. When did you last cry?: Last night but I’m blaming vodka. [This is the response I sent my friends when I did the survey, and I like it even though it’s not currently accurate. I can’t remember when the last time was right now, anyway.]
6. Do you like your handwriting?: Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
7. What is your favorite lunch meat?: Ham or turkey.
8. Any bad habits?: Good lord, where to start? How about binge eating flaming hot Cheetos?
9. What is/are your most embarrassing CD(s) on your shelf?: Aw, what a 90s question. I don’t think anyone should be embarrassed about the music they like, but I definitely was when I recently bought an Evanescence album to replace the scratched disc I’d burned in high school.
10. If you were another person, would you be friends WITH yourself? I think so, the way I am now. I vacillate between hating myself and thinking it’s unfair that other people don’t see how secretly cool I am.
11. Are you a daredevil?: Not at all.
12. Have you ever told a secret you swore not to tell?: Yeah, because I can’t hold up under peer pressure. More of an issue in high school than any time since.
14. Have you ever misused a word and it sounded absolutely stupid?: I feel like everyone’s guaranteed to have done this, but I can’t think of a particular example.
15. Do you think there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?: Eh. Nope. I think the world is pretty much garbage except for the few people who are actively trying to make it not be.
16. Do fish have feelings?: Why not?
17. Are you trendy? Hahaha no.
18. How do you release anger? Depends on the kind of anger . . . Fast driving while listening to my Foo Fighters playlist is a good one, punching my thigh is a less good (but pretty satisfying) one.
19. Where are your second homes?: My job, actually. I left it for eight months, and now that I’m back, I can’t believe I ever didn’t work there. It’s as much a part of my life as my family is.
20. Do you trust others easily?: Not new peopleit takes me a very long time to get comfortable with someone. But people I’ve known for a long time have to be pretty consistently awful before I’ll stop trying to give them the benefit of the doubt.
21. What was your favorite toy as a child?: Like 95 percent books, but I loved this bike, too. I wish I still had it.

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22. What class in school do you think is totally useless?: Maybe history, the way it’s currently taught in the U.S. All of the boring, meaningless information we don’t care enough to remember; none of the historical context we need to actually understand the world. American textbooks are primarily set by political conservatives and creationists, so you can imagine how that goes.
23. Do you have a journal?: Yes, but I haven’t written regularly for years. I was a dedicated, very detailed journaler as a teenager.
24. Do you use sarcasm a lot?: Not really anymore, I’m just realizing. I used to.
25. Have you ever been in a mosh pit? Sort of.
26. What do you look for in a Guy/Gal?: Basically, not being a dick.
27. What are your nickname(s)?: Growing up my siblings called me Moira like the girl in Peter Pan.
28. Would you bungee jump?: Probably not.
29. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?: Never, if I can help it (with the obvious exception of my Converse high-tops).
30. Do you think that you are strong?: I can’t decide.
31. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Coffee, preferably with toffee and nuts, or chocolate with pieces of brownie.
32. What are your favorite color(s)?: Blue and green.
33. What is your least favorite thing?: I have a lot of favorite and least favorite things but I don’t think I could ever rank them precisely enough to have just one winner (loser). Some of my least favorite things are insects, doing dishes, right-wing Christian extremists, “cute” “alternative” spellings (Kwik Kar, etc.), trying to make small talk when I meet someone new, the color pink.
34. How many wisdom teeth do you have?: I’ve never had any removed.
35. Are you in love with anyone?: Yes.
36. How many people have a crush on you right now?: SO MANY. You don’t even know.
37. Who do you miss most right now?: I miss having girlfriends. I used to have so many amazing friends, and the ones I have now all live far away.
38. What color pants are you wearing?: Black leggings.
39. What are you listening to? Myself typing! And the air conditioning, and Nirvana in my head, because I was listening to Nevermind earlier today.
40. What are the last 4 digits of your phone number? 6294
41. What are the first 3 digits of your phone number? 927. I feel like this is silly and/or cute for some reason?
42. What is the last thing you ate?: Flaming hot Cheetos.
43. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?: Green.
44. How is the weather right now?: Hot. Humid. Horrible. But actually getting slightly less horrible as August progresses, so there’s hope.
45. Last person you talked to on the phone?: Not counting patrons at the library, my brother.
46. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?: Depending on their proximity to me, probably whether or not they’re intimidating.
47. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Well, the person who sent it to me originally was my best friend, who stopped talking to me when I started questioning my conservative Mormon upbringing. At the time that we did this survey, she was my favorite person in the world.
48. How are you today?: Not bad so far. I slept incredibly well last night, and sleep is often a problem for me.
49. Favorite drink?: Sake or a cafe latte.
50. Favorite alcoholic drink?: Sake or a vodka martini.
51. Favorite sports?: Zero sports, sir! If I absolutely had to pick one, basketball.
52. Hair color?: Brown
53. Eye color?: Brown
54. Do you wear contacts?: I switch between glasses and contacts. It’s been glasses for . . . a year and a half, probably.
55. Siblings: Two sisters, three brothers. I’m the oldest.

56. Favorite month?: October, November, or December.
57. Favorite food?: Pasta, sandwiches, strawberries and cantaloupe, potato soup, pho, ramen, Thai, Korean, Indian. I love food in general, especially spicy, but I have a problem with certain textures. I can’t eat shrimp, for example, even though I like the taste. I tried so hard to love sushi, but it hasn’t worked yet.
58. Last movie you watched?: Kubo and the Two Strings. The animation was gorgeous and I found the first third of the movie—the call to adventure, archetypally speaking—almost mesmerizing. Once the quest actually starts it was a lot more predictable, but still enjoyable.
59. Favorite day of the year?: I don’t think I have one?
60. Are you too shy to ask someone out?: Yeah, even now I probably couldn’t do it. Hence my inability to make new friends.
61. Scary movies or happy endings?: Neither. I have nothing against happy endings, but I don’t like movies that were made just for that purpose. And I don’t like being scared.
62. Summer or winter?: Winter, until I move somewhere that summer doesn’t make me want to die.
63. Hugs or kisses?: Pretty much always would depend on the circumstances, I think.
64. Relationships or one night stands?: Both have merits.
65. Do you want your friends to write back?: YES THAT IS THE POINT!
66. Who is most likely to respond?: You.
67. Who is least likely to respond?: Why did surveys always have these questions? They always had them.
68. Living arrangements?: An apartment I love in a city I like in a state I loathe in a country I don’t care much for, on the whole.
69. What books are you reading?: The God Delusion, by Richard Dawkins; Kojiki, by Keith Yatsuhashi; and on audio in my car, Hard Choices, by Hillary Rodham Clinton.
70. What’s on your mouse pad?: My mouse pad is nonexistent.
71. Favorite board game?: I don’t play much anymore, but I especially like Settlers of Catan, Ticket to Ride, and Lord of the Rings Risk. 
72. What did you watch on TV last night?: We didn’t watch TV last night, but the shows we’re currently watching are Elementary (with Lucy Liu and Johnny Lee Miller) and Akame ga Kill.
73. Favorite smells?: Pine trees, rain, delicious food I’m about to eat.
74. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?: What, like I have the same thought every day? Depends on the morning, and then I probably forget it pretty much immediately.

Get Your Shit Together, Facebook

This year is the tenth anniversary of the last summer I had with my friends in college.

It was the last one before we all started dating the people we ended up marrying, and since I was Mormon at the time, that meant it was the last summer before all my guy friends just suddenly disappeared from my life. (Seriouslysome of the ones I’d been closest with didn’t even invite me to their weddings less than a year later. I guess Mormon men don’t know how to be friends with women if there’s no chance of dating them.)

My female friendships lasted a little while longer—a few years, in most cases, until it became clear that I’d become a heathen liberal, and then they were gone too.

So this year, all summer long, Facebook has been shoving these “memories” in my face.

The thing is that it was a really fun time in my life, and some of them are great memories to look back on. But every time I consider sharing one, I remember that none of the people in the photo talk to me anymore, and in fact I’m not even Facebook friends with most of them now, so who would I be sharing it for? So then I don’t, and I feel sad for a little while instead.

Doesn’t it feel like Facebook should have an algorithm to handle this sort of thing?

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If you came here from my book blog, hello, and if you didn’t, hey I also have a book blog! Welcome to both.

Here’s a little of what I’m putting in the “about” section:

INFJ, liberal, feminist, atheist. I work in a public library.

I’ve always loved books, trees, mountains, languages, music, different cultures, maps, geography quizzes, art, literary trivia, Super Nintendo, bread, cheese, spicy foods.

Recent (within the past decade) convert to comic books, anime, post-90s video games, drinking, the word “fuck,” the ocean.

Hi.

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