Tag Archive: people

If you’ve never heard of this website, it’s a dating website. In order to join this website, you have to be voted in. Pretty much, you make a dating profile and then people look at it and go “holy crap, she’s ugly. I don’t like her.” After 48 hours, you’re either in or out.

As far as that, I know nothing. I was voted out. Despite being officially ugly, I feel like this system is a really great way to date online. Instead of months and months of rejection after rejection and no response, you only have to wait two days and then you know whether or not you had a chance in the first place. Yeah, it’s (supposedly) disappointing when you don’t get in, but you only have to be disappointed once and then you can go get a life.

As most people can tell you, I’m pretty fascinated by online dating. I met my boss on a dating website and I now get paid a lot to do something I love WHENEVER I WANT. Yeah, that’s right. I have the most flexible job you can have. [Apparently it’s worth mentioning that I work as a website administrator and content manager, not… something else. :P] Other than that, I’ve met a few people that are really interesting and people that are not so interesting. I’ve learned a lot about people and the way they portray themselves through different mediums. I’ve also learned a lot about my own personal preferences when it comes to dudes.

Online dating isn’t for everyone, but I do think that everyone (old enough) should go ahead and try it it, keeping in mind that they shouldn’t be too disappointed. Think of it as this funny, goofy thing that you’re doing and just relax. I’m a pretty relaxed person on there and I get so much attention on there that I have to stay off it for a while so that I don’t get overwhelmed.

The problem is that people get so uptight about dating that they forget that meeting new people and having fun are the main goals. Those people who are desperately seeking a girlfriend or boyfriend and want to get married and have a hundred babies are kind of scary, to be honest. Let things happen of their own accord.

And remember, you can still have a fulfilling life if you’re ugly like me. ;)



Due to my insane desire to earn a “gold star” (fulfill the lettering requirements) in Orchestra, I found myself reflecting on my junior year of high school. The one that happened last school year. Mostly, I needed to remember all the music related activities I did because I can earn points for them. I thought of a bunch from my freshmen and sophomore years and, obviously, this year was easier to remember, but nothing stuck out to me about my junior year, which I thought was really odd. I have really loved high school and I figured I would remember more of it. So, I decided to go back through my Twitter feed to see if I’d posted anything useful. I tried Facebook first, but I have no informative posts on there, for some reason.

Naturally, my Twitter feed is pretty useless. Not to mention disjointed. It has reminded me of things that were happening a year ago, though. I remarked a lot about things that weren’t really interesting to me then, but have since become important to me.

One year ago, I was very sure about my future. I was going to major in English because that was the only thing I could conceivably be interested in long-term. Now, one year later, I am seriously considering changing my major to something related to Chemistry or at the very least do a double major with English. I’m realizing that I avoid thinking about my future as much as I can. I’ve never been the type of person to look at things with a long-term perspective.

I’ve always been what those in the NaNoWriMo circle call a “pantser.” I fly by the seat of my pants and just make things up as they come along. For some reason this has always worked well for me. Every English paper I need to write comes about in half an hour to an hour of sprint-writing. I usually get perfect grades (except for in English 1010…).

This year, however, I’ve involved myself in every extracurricular activity that I could that requires preparation and anticipation. It’s been horrible and amazing. For the most part, it just irritates my anxiety, but I wouldn’t be doing them if they weren’t immensely fun. I wasn’t going to go into detail, but now I feel like it, which means this post is going to be SUPER long and no one is going to get to the bottom. Actually, I’m going to make this a series of blog posts. It’s about time I get this out of my head.

The first thing I got myself into was AP Chemistry. I had a fantastic time in Chemistry my junior year and my teacher was one of my favorite people. He kept telling me I should do AP Chemistry, which I signed up for without hesitation. After all, I was finding AP Literature easy, so AP Chemistry couldn’t be that hard, right? Normal Chemistry was a cinch, so AP Chemistry couldn’t be too complicated, could it?

AP Chemistry was probably the first sign I had that I had been babied my whole public school experience. The work was so intensive that, if I weren’t so prideful, I would have quit after the first trimester. We started out with nine people in the class. Two were gone by the end of the first week and we lost another only halfway through the trimester. At the beginning of the second trimester, we lost another and one became the teacher’s assistant to avoid the work. There were four of us left. Quite honestly, I don’t remember a lot about that first trimester. I was just barely keeping it together and the other people in the class weren’t really interested in bonding.

During the second trimester, the four of us who remained became a strange brand of friends. I’m not really sure what kind of friends we are. Kayla and I are in Orchestra together. We were pretty good friends before AP Chem, so I think we would have been good friends anyway. There’s just something about all the hard work we’ve done together and being the only two girls from the beginning. We aren’t as smart as the boys, but we get by well enough. Edward runs with the same group of friends as I do, but we’ve never been… chummy. In AP Chem, though, we make nerd jokes that Kayla and Jason don’t really understand. Jason and I would not be more than acquaintances if not for AP Chem. He’s more of a popular guy. He’s into sports and things, but he’s also my partner for our Science Olympiad team and we’ve become closer friends through being both really good and really bad at our events.

The four of us and our teacher have a fantastic time in class, joking, finding science interesting, and teasing each other. The environment just helps me not be stressed about how much I truly suck at it. For once in my life, I’m not naturally good at the subject. It isn’t even like math where I just do not try at all. I try so hard to understand the concepts and I do, eventually, it just takes me a lot longer to get it than the others seem to. For once, I’m not the smart kid, I’m the one who gets the worst scores consistently. The thing is that… I just really like it. Things don’t usually hold my attention like Chemistry does. Not even English and I LOVE English.

It’s weird that this whole experience doesn’t seem disheartening to me. I think that’s what happened with me and math. I find math interesting, actually, but in ninth grade Geometry, I didn’t quite get it and everything just got harder and I got discouraged and gave up. I settled for B’s in math because those were the grades I could get without having to apply myself very much. That isn’t happening with Chemistry, though. The further we get into it, the more the stuff I didn’t understand before gets applied and I finally understand what it’s for. I’m still behind the other people because they can look at a problem and tell me how to get an answer and spout equations like none other and I just stare at the problem.

I’m really not sure how well I’m going to do on the AP Chem exam, but every time I express doubt, my teacher and classmates encourage me and I feel like I have some sort of a chance. Of course, I should be studying for said test right now instead of blogging, but I’m in a mood.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m standing outside a door that is beginning to open rather than like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. I feel like AP Chemistry has propelled me to this pathway and I feel like I can do things. For my whole life, I thought I would grow up and only do the things that came naturally to me, but struggling through Chemistry has shown me that I can do anything I want to do. I can accomplish hard things if I want to and I’m finding that I want to.

People say that you can do anything you want all the time, and I knew that I could do anything, but I never thought I was motivated enough to do hard things. Now that I want to do the work and dive into the hard things, I feel like I have options. It’s a feeling that I can’t really describe. My randomly signing up for AP Chemistry gave this to me and I will never regret that, even if I fail the AP exam and end up a loser, alone with a crummy job that provides no challenge or interest to me, I won’t ever regret the things I’ve learned and I won’t forget the people it brought me close to.

Next in the series.

There are few things that I truly take seriously. Grammar, Virtual Villagers, Guitar Hero, among other things. I probably wouldn’t murder anyone over any of these things, but they often command my focus and effort completely.

Dating is not one of these things.

Obviously, I’ve dated so much that I can barely stand up straight without buckling underneath the weight of my immense knowledge. In other words, I’ve been on a total of five dates since I turned sixteen, a little more than two years ago, which sounds sad until you compare with my 22 year old “twin” brother, who hasn’t ever been on a date, or so he claims.

Because of my rather casual outlook on dating in my current situation, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to join a dating website (or two). At the time, I had recently(ish) turned eighteen, which is a requirement for most dating websites. I started this endeavor purely as a joke and wasn’t really expecting anything. After a few weeks, it turned into an experiment which has yielded some interesting results.

Being the highly scientific person that I am, we’ll do this properly.

Step one of the scientific method: Ask a question.

I guess the question sort of was, “Hey, why don’t I go on a dating site? It’ll be funny!” But the question really is, 1) Do guys on dating websites act differently than guys irl (if you’ll pardon my chatspeak) or on other social websites (in regard to myself)? and 2) Can I manage some sort of connection with people who are seemingly desperate for… something… I’m not sure what… without being sarcastic or offensive? I suppose the second question is just a sort of personal goal. If these people are truly desperate, then their hopes and dreams will be easily crushed. I don’t want  to be a dream crusher.

Step Two: Do background research.

This is where all those hours spent on the internet come in handy. I know how people interact on the internet outside of a dating website. I also know how they act irl… sort of.

Step Three: Construct a hypothesis.

My hypothesis is (or rather, was) that guys on dating websites would fall into two categories: extremely nice/polite, or extremely cocky. They are likely to be more open about their intentions and feelings and they will say many a cheesy cliche in order to impress me. My other hypothesis was that I, personally, would receive a lot of communications from these people because they are desperate and because they don’t know me, therefore they will prey upon me like something with teeth devours a tiny bunny… (Can you tell that I gave up on finding a clever metaphor)(If I were a bunny, I would be freaking awesome)

Step Four: Test your hypothesis by doing an experiment.

Basically, the experiment was to make myself a profile on a few websites and then see what happened. For each site, my success is measured by amount of messages received. One of the sites had a way to track who viewed your profile, but there’s this system that randomly chooses people who may or may not have anything in common with you and show your their profile. There was also this questionnaire thing you can do that will let you know, via percentage, how much of a “match” you are with someone else. I figured that this was all way too complicated to factor in (being as lazy as I am).

Each user I received a message from is ranked according to length of message conversation and quality of that conversation. They are ranked on a scale from one to five, one being boring or creepy and five being compelling.

Step Five: Analyze your data.

Obviously I’m not going to share names or anything because this is the internet and there’s a very slim chance that someone who I’ve talked to on one of those websites could be reading this and that would just be awkward.

Anyway. Data.

Plenty of Fish:

8 message conversations total

2, 3, 1, 1, 2, 5 3, 5

The problem with the people that I talked to on this website, was that most of them either immediately wanted to go on a date with me, which I can’t because my mom said no and because I don’t really want to go on dates with guys seven billion years older than me, or they outright tried to pay me for sex which was more comical than anything else, though it took me some awkward explaining to get out of.

The exceptions (those two little fives) were actually very compelling, however. One shared some of my same philosophies and love of big words, while the other shared my passion for exchanging large amounts of random information in a rambly sort of way. Not to mention they had actual interests besides desperately wanting to take me on a date.

Ok Cupid (I just feel it really weird to admit that I didn’t run screaming from these websites and their horrible names):

14 message conversations total

4, 2, 2, 5, 5, 1, 1, 1, 4, 5, 0, 4, 3, 5

I realize that a 0 is kind of against the parameters set, but SERIOUSLY. This goes beyond creepy. There are people who want to pay me for sex (though they were incredibly understanding about my refusal), and there are intensely desperate people…. and then there’s this guy. I literally feel unsafe, though he lives, like, 7000 miles away from me.

Anyway. I was much more pleased with this website than the other. The profiles were much more informative, the interface was easier to navigate, and the people were more awesome. It seems like there were more people with legitimately interesting personalities, though none of them really have exemplary grammar skills.  I’m not rushing off to marry any of them and I don’t think I’d be comfortable actually meeting them, but they are very nice people to talk to, though sometimes I find myself actually having to carry some weight in the conversation. I am not really very good at instigating conversation, but I’m okay at feeding the fire. The problem is that some of those people are brilliant conversation killers.

Step Six: Make a conclusion.

I was pretty much wrong, which isn’t a surprise. There were polite people and there were cocky people, but there were also interesting people and I can never have imagined them as individuals until I could see that they were.

I wasn’t really surprised about how many messages I got, though. The thing about the internet is that you can be pretty picky about what you show people and, though you may think you’re accurately portraying yourself, you can present yourself as a completely different person. I really hope that I portray myself accurately on the internet. As you can see, I always provide as much information as possible for the sake of clarity, but I still lack an appropriate mirror that I can use to describe myself accurately.

I don’t really know how other people see me, but I do know enough, by the way people treat me, to be able to tell the difference between the perceptions. In real life, because of my social status, because of my physical appearance and presence, because of my continuance, I know that I would never have come into contact with most of these people I have communicated with over the last month. The difference between judging a person based on a profile and judging a person based on what I listed above is that a profile contains information that is tailored toward making a person appealing, while the things apparent in real life are often subconscious and not totally controlled.

For different reasons, I have decided that making a deep connection with someone (not necessarily romantic) cannot be done easily on the internet. I won’t say it’s impossible because I’m sure someone out there has done it. A relationship can’t be built only on shared interests and ideas. There are many people I share such things with on those dating websites, but none of them really appeal to me in any way other than conversation buddies. A relationship is strengthened by communication and trust, but it’s built on sharing more than ideas.

It’s the sharing of activity and memories that makes a relationship. I’m not saying that if you spend all your time with your boyfriend or girlfriend you’ll suddenly have a fantastic relationship, but I know that I feel more strongly for people that I’ve shared experiences with than people that I’ve shared mere conversations with. Not only do I participate in planned activities with them, but I just spend time with them. We talk about things, yes, but it isn’t what we’re talking about that matters. It’s that we’re sharing something of ourselves. We’re giving more than just a few words on a screen.

We give something important to each other when we give our time and attention. It just seems more special to laugh about something with someone than it is to laugh at something someone wrote an hour ago.

What I’ve learned from this is that, while dating websites can be a useful way for people to start relationships, it’s in no one a place where one can build a relationship. It can be done, but only in ideal circumstances.

If you’ve read this far, then I congratulate you. This may be the longest blog post I’ve ever written, which is saying something. Basically, the advice I would give you if you want to use online dating is that if you want people to take a genuine interest in you, you need to have a good profile picture (because I judged the crap out of people just by their profile pictures) and you need to not sound like you’re trying to woo someone. Treat them like a person. Talk to them about things that you can both converse about or it’s going to be awkward, don’t be delusional about the nature of online relationships, and please don’t ask people questions about things that can be found on their profiles. Read the entire thing so that you don’t sound like a dork.


Lately I’ve been thinking about appearances and the way that people represent themselves to the world. Sometimes people think that this is just an issue with teenaged people, but I refuse to believe that at the age of twenty people just suddenly stop caring what people think about them. They may think that they’ve stopped caring, but there’s still the chance that they’re hoping people will see them as someone who doesn’t care what people think about them.

This thought-process began a few days ago when I got to my Seminary class early. I have Seminary after lunch, so when I’m finished eating, I just go and hang out all by myself in the classroom. Fortunately, the classroom has a piano in it. I am not a pianist, but I can read the notes and I can play a few songs that I taught to myself. The important thing is that I love to play on the piano. You can play all of the notes at once if you want to. You can’t do that on a violin or other string instrument, though you can play four different notes, which is more than most band instruments (a constant weapon used in friendly Orchestra v.s. Band debates).

My list of songs that I can play is short: Late by Ben Folds, Nevermore by Queen, Loss of Me (Final Fantasy… IX?), Zanarkand (Final Fantasy X), Letting Go by Isaac Shepard, and Prison Food by Ben Folds. Each one of them, I learned painstakingly by doing the right hand first and then the left and then putting them together. It took me almost a year to learn to play Late.

Anyway, every day I would go into my Seminary classroom and play my songs on the piano until class started. Sometimes people are in the classroom before I stop playing and on this particular day, there was a sophomore girl in there and she asked me why I never played the piano during our opening hymn, seeing as I’m “so talented on the piano.”

I thanked her for thinking this, but then, as always, I had to explain to her that learning to play songs is very difficult to me, not to mention hymns (they’re just SO HARD to play… I don’t know what it is), not to mention playing the hymn while everyone else is singing. I think that whenever I tell someone that I’m not really all that good at playing the piano, they don’t quite believe me (seriously, though, I just dabble a little in playing the piano). Actions speak louder and whatnot because they just don’t seem to be able to believe that I’m not good at playing the piano after they’ve just heard me play a complicated sounding song.

It set me thinking, naturally. Because most of those sophomores in my class only ever see me playing pretty songs on the piano and answering questions philosophically, they will have a totally different perspective of me than that of the sophomores who are in my Orchestra class who are every day witnesses to my mistakes, bad jokes, and inability to be serious when I’m doing something that I enjoy so much. It’s not that I’m trying to seem like a different person, because I’m not, but because of the specific situation, I seem like a type of person that I’m not. Well… I am that person, but that’s not all I am.

This is one of the reasons that I almost (ALMOST) feel bad for judging people on Facebook. People post dumb things on Facebook. Heck, I post dumb things on Facebook. Some of those people posting things on Facebook are people that I don’t see every day. The only information that I have to judge them with (because everyone inevitably judges everyone else) is the stuff they provide for me via Facebook. It doesn’t even matter if I see them every day or not, actually, because I treat them as a different person. People seem different in real life than they do on Facebook and sometimes, when I’m dealing with one, I forget that the other exists.

Sometimes, when I am in a certain situation, I forget that all of the other me’s in all the other situations exist. For example, in my first hour class, AP Chemistry, I am tired-Emily. Tired-Emily makes bad jokes and laughs at everyone else’s bad jokes and doesn’t understand Chemistry. In my second hour class, Digital Photography, I am impatient-Emily who understands nearly everything that is being talked about and really would just like to get a move on. Impatient-Emily also gets really annoyed by the giggly girls who don’t understand anything about computers. It’s hypocritical because just an hour early, I was pretty giggly because of tiredness and I didn’t understand everything.

AP Chemistry-Emily is the real me. That’s how I act and I really don’t understand a lot of what we talk about. Digital Photography-Emily is the real me as well. I understand everything that he tells us and I want to just keep moving forward. I’m not pretending to be a different person, I don’t have multiple personality disorder, I’m just reacting differently to different situations.

This happens whenever I change situations. When I go to school, when I go to my next class, when I go to a friend’s house or a party, when I go home, I react differently to the situation depending on how comfortable I am with the people around me or wherever it is that I am or whatever it is that I am doing.

Sometimes I find it infinitely hard to remember that people are reacting differently to different situations before I judge them and sometimes I find it really easy. One good example is with driving. My mother likes to yell at people on the road, which is a perfectly legitimate way to deal with frustrations, but I think that she, like most people who get enraged with other people who are driving, has failed to factor in some things. I am almost positive that people yell at me all the time whilst I am driving. I am bad at driving. I am really bad at driving. I’m surprised I haven’t died in a fiery crash yet. So, what if the person who my mom is yelling at for cutting her off is some timid student driver who doesn’t know what they’re doing? If my mother, or anyone else, knew the person’s situation would they react differently to the situation? Maybe not, but I never get angry at people who are bad at driving because I’m probably worse.

Likewise, whenever someone does something that really annoys me, I really try to understand why they’re doing what they’re doing. Sometimes it’s the way they pronounce a word incorrectly and all I have to think about is the development of speech in children. Children learn how to speak by listening to their parents and other speaking people around them. They probably heard the word they’re saying wrong said wrong a million times, which would mean that it’s not necessarily their fault that they’re saying it wrong. I’m not sure whose fault it is, but it doesn’t really have to be anyone’s fault. This way, I can be annoyed with how imperfectly the person was taught to speak instead of being annoyed with them personally.

It doesn’t always work, but it is a good strategy most of the time.

It constantly interests me to try to imagine what I appear as to people in a certain situation. An action that may not be significant to me because I’ve lived through all of the other situations/reactions in my life may be significant to someone who can only see one reaction to one situation.

Hope this makes you all EXTREMELY self-conscious for the rest of your lives.

As all two of my regular readers may know, I have neck problems. Specifically, one or more bulged disks in my spine. I’m not really all that sure of specifics because I only heard what is wrong with me secondhand via my mother and she tends to forget half of the important things that are said. Anyway, I have been going to physical therapy for a month or so now. My therapist is super nice and very hilarious and his secretary/assistant lady is pretty awesome. However, I had an interesting experience when I went to my session today.

At the beginning of my sessions, we do this deep-heat thing and then I lay on heat pads for fifteen-ish minutes. One thing of note: I am very bad at determining the passage of time. For example, when I am laying on heat pads in a small room, staring at the ceiling, and trying not to move; I cannot tell how much time has gone by. Mostly, I am finding the patterns in the holes and things on the ceiling. Today was no different. I stared up at the ceiling and discovered a few cyclopes.

After the fifteen minutes were over, a little timer thingy in the room started to beep. Normally, the therapist comes in a few moments later and turns the thing off and we continue with the stuff. This time, the timer continued to beep for a minute or so and then stopped. I continued to lay, not moving. Eventually, I looked at my phone and determined that almost five minutes had passed since the timer had stopped beeping. I then proceeded to alternately freak out and calm down for the next ten minutes. I figured I’d been forgotten or abandoned or whatever you want to call it.  I kept convincing myself that they would come eventually.

Finally, I got brave enough to crack the door of the room a little bit so that whenever someone would walk by, they would see me laying there and possibly feel sorry for me.

Eventually, my therapist came again and proceeded to press against every sensitive, little knot in my neck. THEN, he made me lay down with a rolled up towel under my neck for ten minutes (supposedly), which really ended up being fifteen because, once again, he didn’t hear the timer when it went off. Fortunately, his assistant was paying attention and rescued me from the total mental breakdown I’m sure would have happened had I been forced to wait any longer.

In conclusion, I have issues. The first step to solving a problem is to realize that you have a problem, right? Suspiciously, no one seems to know what the second step is. Perhaps next time I’ll fake a heart attack to get their attention…

Favorite Actor:

I’m assuming that this means favorite actor within Doctor Who, otherwise, I might have to put a little more thought into the question. My favorite actor is probably David Tennant or Matt Smith. I can’t really decide just like I can’t decide who my favorite Doctor is. I don’t really have favorites. I have things or people that I like and things or people that I don’t like and then I just call them all my favorite.

My friends who spend any small amount of time with me can attest to this.

“Such-and-such teacher? He’s my favorite!”

“So-and-so in Orchestra class? She’s my favorite!”

“Crime and Punishment/The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes/Warriors/Pride and Prejudice/Artemis Fowl/books by John Green/Redwall books/The Bartimaeus Trilogy? THAT’S MY FAVORITE BOOK EVVVVERRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

I really am surprised that people don’t get more annoyed with me about this…

Anyway, favorite actor… I pretty much like them all.

Least Favorite Companion:

Martha Jones. I think most people either hate her or love her, but I don’t really mind her, it’s just… her breathing. It sounds stupid, but go back and watch one of her episodes. Every time she’s tired or scared or under stress, she breaths with this shrill, shreaky noise that annoys me to no end. I won’t go into the whole her-awkward-relationship-with-the-Doctor-makes-her-a-terrible-companion-and-then-she’s-a-jerk-to-him argument because I think people are different and react to different situations differently and I think that she isn’t like Rose or Donna who have had a lot of time to sort of outcasts, but she’s attractive and popular and she has a normal family who have normal people problems. She comes from a completely different situation than Rose or Donna, so she doesn’t relate to the Doctor in the same way. Some people hate that and that’s fine, but her breathing is unacceptable.

I was going to name this post some clever parody of something, but I’m not good at parodies.

Ooh, that opening leads me nicely into my subject. There were several titles that I almost used for this post. I even typed them into the box… and then I erased them and went with the above title. In fact, I type oodles and oodles of tweets, statuses, comments, and posts every day, a lot of them to never be seen by the internet. The reason? Because they sound stupid, they may offend someone, or they aren’t quite relevant. They didn’t get past my brain filter.

We talked about this in Seminary once. It was my first trimester as a high school sophomore, I wasn’t as glaringly brilliant as I am now (joke), but I was apparently aware enough to remember. It was the beginning of the trimester and we were talking about what would, the next year in my second trimester as a junior in high school, become Momentum, Critical Mass, and Mindfulness (I may or may not have had to check my Seminary notes to remember the last one… which was actually the first one in the list… I digress)(but really, isn’t the point of parenthetical commentary to allow the writer to digress?)(whatever). Those three concepts are for another blog post, but in the beginning, we were focusing mainly on brain filters.

The point of this particular discussion was apparently to help us remain focused in the class, throughout the trimester. The idea was that we needed to keep up our participation in class, but not to become distracted by just saying whatever comes to our minds. We needed to develop a mind filter. Of all the millions of thoughts that flash through our minds within a pretty short amount of time, most of them shouldn’t be said out loud, for various reasons. Sometimes, some of those thoughts may seem funny or appropriate in the moment, but really aren’t, so we were supposed to be able to tell what thoughts were worth saying and which ones weren’t before we said them.

That trimester of seminary was the most successful one I’ve ever been in, so apparently this concept got through to us. It also made me a big fan of trying not to say everything that comes to my mind… which admittedly does NOT work sometimes, especially during school. Though, in my defense, some of my teachers find me to be very funny (OR they’re FANTASTICALLY good at their courtesy laughs…)(This only reinforces my opinion that teachers are actually nicer than they’re given credit for).

Where this concept really works for me, though is when I’m communicating via textual means. Facebook especially because I forget that, even though I know those people really well, we’re not particularly good friends. Not like on Twitter where I follow people and they follow me back and we generally tolerate one another and… I don’t really know, but it’s a different sort of friendship. On Facebook, I forget that I’m not really on frequent-speaking terms with people and that they may be a little annoyed when I comment something incredibly sarcastic on their statuses. My statuses are less “filtered”, for want of a better word, because if they want to unsubscribe from my feed (is that what it’s called on Facebook?) without unfriending me, they can, quite easily. I’m not saying it’s completely unfiltered (That’s for Twitter)(It’s like there are three different levels of “filtering”: the Facebook comment filter, the Facebook status filter, and the Twitter filter)(That’s probably why I don’t have many followers…), but I have a little more freedom.

Now, I’m not saying that the things some people post on Facebook statuses, comments, Twitter feeds, or anywhere on the internet are just word vomit (a beautiful concept introduced to me by another teacher that probably didn’t find me funny at all, but put up with all of the stupid things that I said), unfiltered, and straight from the brain, but I kind of am. Teenagers and people are usually criticized for the stupid things they post on the internet, but I can’t help but wonder if they’d be criticized less if they’d put a nice brain filter in place (PROOFREAD).

It’s harder to see on Facebook (for me) because most of my friends there are SUPER nice people. Same with Twitter, though I read plenty of articles that discuss the effects of things people say on Twitter (my Twitter friends are awesome). But, sometimes I see things on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr, that either make me feel deeply embarrassed for whomever posted it, or feel angry that they could post something that would potentially hurt people. It’s a good skill to have and if people used it a little bit, maybe the old folks would stop hating on the internet! (There’s nothing wrong with being old… unless you make it a problem)(I’M LOOKING AT YOU, ANGRY OLD LADIES THAT YELL AT ME FOR DOING WHAT I’M TOLD).


Dear Facebook, Twitter, Internet, and the world:

Remember all those times when you straightened a picture on the wall or fixed a pencil that was pointed in a different direction from the others? Remember when someone around you teased you about being OCD (first of all, you can’t BE OCD; you can HAVE Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder)? Remember all those times that you defended your weird behavior with the claim that you were (had) OCD?

Well, guess what, you are not OCD. It isn’t even very likely that you actually have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, because, if you did, it’s not likely something you’d be joking about with such flippancy.

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder is a type of anxiety disorder, another type of disorder that you aren’t really likely to have. If you did, you’d know it (maybe not, but it’s not something you can be ignorant of for long if you do have one). If you were to have OCD, it would be because you are prone to obsessing over things. No, not “omg <insert name of celebrity here> is so hawt i luv him/her sooooo much!!!!!!!!!”, I mean the kind of obsession that fuels stalkers and serial killers. The kind of obsession that distracts you constantly. The brain of a person with OCD sets up defenses against the obsession by giving them the compulsion to do little things (distractions), like counting leaves or bugs or the campaign signs of local politicians. Like fixing pencils and pictures (though the pencils and pictures are often already straight) and closing or opening doors.

The thing that you have is not OCD, but probably a more common disorder (this one a personality disorder rather than an anxiety disorder) called Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder (OCPD). A lot of people have OCPD, significantly less have OCD, so unless you legitimately have OCD, please stop using it to incorrectly defend your behavior (usually with grammatic inaccuracy, might I add).

I guess it isn’t completely your fault that you weren’t aware of this distinction. In my seventh grade health class, I was taught (by someone with a college degree) that OCD was the thing that OCPD is. Another reason why the public school system of America should be reformed…

P.S. I will eventually blog about this vacation I just went on with my family, but I’m lazy, so no idea when that is going to be.

Apparently, titles for blog posts are optional. That’s a little ridiculous. Are people really going to read a paragraph or more of writing without some sort of indication as to what the post is going to be about, especially when most people who blog are blogging to get a following for some unknown reason. I’m pretty lazy and I still manage to come up with a title. In fact, if I can’t come up with a title, I take it as a sign that I shouldn’t write a post either.

See, it’s a thing. It’s one of those things that you just do. You make a title for your blog. No one is going to read it otherwise and don’t pretend like you don’t want people to read it because you’re posting it online. Just because you set your Twitter account to private doesn’t mean anything. If you didn’t want people to read the stuff that you post, you’d write it down in some ridiculous, leather-bound journal and then you’d burn it before you die.

Or you’d make a Word document. Only Word documents don’t turn out as fluffy and colorful as blog posts. Even hand-written journals look pretty cool when you finish them, if your handwriting isn’t like mine. Mine changes constantly. It will be slanted and long at the beginning of the page and then slowly morph into short and fat. I’m pretty sure that means I have an unstable personality, but I haven’t snapped and murdered people yet, so I figure I’m okay for now.

Maybe emotionally unstable people are the people who don’t give titles to their blog-posts? That’s a thought. When I go to college, I should get a degree in internet psychology or something. Then I could spend hours on tumblr and call it ‘research’. I am a genius.