Tag Archives: social media

I Should Have Been a Cat

14 Mar

It would be nice if everyone could just stop being so super awesome and successful at everything for just a gosh golly minute so I can gather myself and catch up.

Don’t you feel like you’re constantly being bombarded with news of other peoples’ awesomeness?  I do.  And it’s usually people my age being awesome.

Do you know who topped the Forbes list as the number one highest paid musician in the world?

Taylor Swift.

That’s right: the Swifty.  A girl about my age who picked up a guitar and started writing mediocre love songs is a billionaire and topped the Forbes List over a band like U2.   Or how about the Olsen twins?  Two chicks also about my age who are billionaires, icons, and own their own fashion line.  Or how about Lindsay Lohan?  Also my age, except unlike Swifty or the twins, she now makes money for being so awful at things.  

And for taking off her clothes and getting wasted and whatnot, but you catch my drift here.

In fact, some of you may recall my campaign to host SNL over The Lohan, wherein I compiled a list of reasons I would be a better host than her.  And you know what? I was right.  I would have been a better host.  But it doesn’t matter.  Because in spite of the awful reaction she got from people all over America when she hosted, her episode had the 2nd highest ratings of the SNL season.  She’s so successful at being unsuccessful that she’s successful.

How can I possibly compete with that?

I shouldn’t care, but I kind of do.  After all, how can I see list after list of people who are in their 20’s shooting into stardom because they made a Ryan Goseling tumblr or a site featuring cats who spell things improperly, or a page that documents what students say on hiking trails without somehow feeling like I’m missing some great calling to create something stupid and phenomenal that whips me into an Internet sensation? 

This cat sleeps for almost the entire day and is still currently more famous than me.

I blame the Twitter Machine.  It’s feeding me information so quickly about people who are young and fabulous and full of society-altering ideas and thoughts and it makes folks like me feel like they’re at the back of the herd.   I’m the limping, cross-eyed zebra of the magical Interwebz, where young, blossoming starlets and dashing entrepreneurs are tweeting the view from the front of the pack. 

I should probably just disconnect.  How can I possibly feel like I’m accomplishing anything when Twitter is throwing top 10 lists of awesome possums at me and Facebook is constantly updating with engagements, marriages, house/car/pet/job acquisitions, and (Lord help us) creepy sonogram photos?   When the world is constantly shouting at you the things that others are doing that are perfect and lovely, it can be hard to remember that we’re not all going after the same things and it’s okay to not be an OlsenLohanSwifty.

We just have to remember that we’re all on different paths.  Mine is to have a blog where I talk about how I don’t like to do laundry so sometimes I just buy packs of underwear instead.  Or how people leaving long voicemails makes me want to scoop my eyes out with a melon baller.  Or how life is too short to get nervous about pooping in public restrooms.   And while that’s not as profitable as a celebrity fragrance line or a TMZ headline or penning young chick country songs, it serves a noble purpose that only I can serve.

Because somewhere out there, someone has lots of packs of new underwear, a hamper full of dirty clothes, and reads my blog to feel better about it.

Keep on keepin’ on, person somewhere out there.  You’re doing just fine.

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Stop SOPA, Save the Unicorns

18 Jan

I was going to post today but I like the magical Interwebz and I feel like you do too and I thought I should take a moment to point out that we might want to work together to save the magical Interwebz unicorns.

Some other people put it a different way.  You can check out their version here:


Thanks for taking a few minutes to edumacate yourselves.  And for helping the pages you visit stay online.

Fellow unicorn lover,


How to Discreetly and Effectively Share Your Wish List

7 Dec

I’ve been so excited about particular products in the past (hefty trash bags, dyson vacuums) that I have been suspected of working for the companies that produce them.  Last night I entered the wonderful world of Pinterest and though I don’t work for them, I can’t help but share my enthusiasm with you.   Partly because it took over my entire night and is thus the only thing that happened to me yesterday, and partly because I have a beautiful plan for it. 

Well, it’s not the only thing that happened to me yesterday, but I don’t think making jokes about the holiday HR party for work is the best idea with regards to financial sustainability.

Anyway, here’s the deal.  Pinterest is a website that allows you to ‘pin’ your favorite things onto a virtual pinboard (essentially, like a profile page with just pictures and links but no personal information).  You can drag a little hot button into your toolbar while you browse and when you see something you like (ZOMG that kitten wearing armor and fighting a dog is sooooo cute!!!111!!!) you can click ‘pin’.  It will populate a few images you can use to represent that page/interest (select picture of kitten with mouth wide open, charging dog) and connects a URL to it.  So when I go to your Pinterest page, I see a bunch of pictures spread out on the page that link to the original sites and I’m all like oh man, that kitten is so cute. And I click it.  And see what you saw.

On the surface, it’s just another way to share things with people on the Interwebz that may or may not give a hoot about the sock bunny tutorial you thought was fantastically awesome or the failblog you read that morning.  But (and this is where my genius comes in) when you dig deeper, it’s a way to log all your desires into a wish list that you discreetly make available to family and friends.

Yeah, I’m going there.

Listen, everyone’s having babies and getting engaged and married and such (not necessarily in that order).  All of those life events are opportunities to have gifts given to you.  Now, I’m in my mid-20’s and at prime marrying/showering/engaging age, but I’m pretty happy and comfortable at the moment and in no rush whatsoever.  And by the time I do get around to any of those things, I’ll have already supplied myself with the items that one would deem appropriate for registries and general gift-giving.  Since I don’t have a socially acceptable reason to publicize a list of my product lusts, Pinterest can do it for me.

It’s a beautiful plan, folks.  Stay with me.  

On Pinterest, you can choose what to name the different pages in your profile.  That is, you can pin all your craft findings to a page called “ILOVEKRAFTSHAHAHA” and all your armored kittens to one called “Renaissance Cats Unite”.  So you make one called “Wish List” or “Product Lust” or “oh em jee buy me things” and pin your favorite products to that page.

Now, Pinterest is an invitation only community right now.  So you have to send an email invitation for someone to get a unique link allowing them to create a profile.  Which means that you will make yourself a page with your deepest desires on it, and out of the kindness of you heart, invite others to join the community (and also come check out all the things you really want).

No guilt, no pressure, no awkwardness.  Just a “hey, by the way if you want to get me something for just being in my mid-20’s, you can check out this page”.  Or a “hey if you don’t know what to get me for my birthday, I happen to have a constantly updated wish list available online”.   And because the pages are so pretty and well-organized, it’s almost like a treat for that person to browse and look through the things you pinned. Plus they get an invitation to a site they can’t join without your help.

It’s called a win-win, my friends, and it’s fantastic.

So go ahead; put out a request on your social media poison site of choice for a Pinterest invitation.  Make your Wish List, and spread the love and joy.  You might just find that the gifts you receive this year are beautifully tailored to your interests.   Or someone might get confused with which page is which and deliver a fully armored kitten to your doorstep.

Like I said: win – win. 

click image for original source/credits

The Premiere of My Face

17 Nov

I don’t know why I keep getting deeper and deeper into all of this social media hootinanny. I got my feet wet with twitter, went wading with a Facebook Page, and now I dove in both feet on YouTube.

Try not to get too excited.

Per usual, it took me a long time to figure out how this newfangled business works.  But I got it.  And so I present to you an announcement in the form of my first YouTube upload.

Also, the premiere of my face.

Follow me on Twitter, Like my Facebook Page (link on top right of sidebar), and hey – come see me on YouTube.  I’m slowly taking over the world.  Very slowly.  Almost not even noticeable really.

It’s the small victories folks. 

The Times They Are a-Changin’

16 Nov

The blog is blue today.  Don’t freak out.

Are you okay? I don’t want you to get too worked up.  Take some time with it.  I know it’s shocking.

Today I have a pretty huge announcement.  Well, huge for me because I stay up until lets-not-kid-myself-I-didn’t-go-to-bed-at-all trying to figure out how in the hell to make a Facebook page.

I’m sorry to call upon the terms of Hades, but holy goodness it takes me a YouTube tutorial, written out instructions, and a few examples of other people’s pages just to get moving on the whole thing.  Not to mention I had to make an image in Microsoft Paint.  Let’s not forget how charming those are:

from "Plight of the Ginger Sperm"

From "Wrestling with a Poltergeist"

From "There Is No Jackie. There Is Only Mindee"

You get the point. 

Oh, I guess I kind of breezed over the whole “exciting news”. 

I have a Facebook Page! 

Like, a fan page.  Not just a Jackie page.  You see, when I wrote a post about giving up Facebook for good, I got a lot of grief from people who don’t want to subscribe but want to click on my posts through Facebook any time they please.  And since I think that’s kind of demanding and ridiculous and they think I should just take what I can get, I’ve decided to compromise by making a Facebook page just for The Jackie Blog.  Now my friends don’t have to get my blog tweets and posts and you don’t have to be my friend to get them. 

I like to think that everybody wins.

Except me, who was up all night fumbling through simplistic code and struggling with the reality that at the ripe age of 25, I’ve already passed the age of comprehension for new developments in technology.

They keep making my brain obsolete.  I have about 60 more years of that to look forward to.

Anyway, I’d be real tickled if you’d click that button on the top right of the sidebar and check out my Facebook page.  Heck, maybe you could even like it while you’re there.  I mean, if you’re feeling ambitious.  I’m not going to beg.

But there is a picture of a kitten.  And a cookie.   Listen, you should probably just go look.

At any rate, I’ve changed the background of the blog to something less… purple.  And I’m gearing up to change that header image soon.  Hopefully really soon.  You know, because I only have like… a month and a half to go before the whole gig is up.  If I’m going to give Yo Gabba Gabba the boot, I need to do it soon.

But it will be glorious, you’ll see.  And until I can make that happen, I’m just changing the background to blue and throwing a Facebook button up.  Because I want to ease you into change slowly and gently, like a compassionate lover.  I understand your struggles.  I have them too.

Which is why today I will be needing a massive vat of coffee. ♣  

P.S. If you don’t want to go all the way up there and click the button, you can just click here.  And if you’re a Twitterer, you can also follow my Twitterage here (also located in the sidebar for your convenience – remember – compassionate lover). Woot for the Interwebz.

Of Death and News Feeds

6 Oct

I have to find a way to deal with the shocking news of death in this crazy age of instant Interwebz magic.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been scrolling down a news feed and been smacked across the side of the head with the news that someone famous has died.   I know there’s really no good way to break the news of someone we all kind of feel linked to passing away, but at the same time it’s a little jarring to read “RIP (insert someone famous here), you will be missed” sandwiched between an update about a friend having to use the bathroom and another friend wanting a hoagie for dinner.

Steve Jobs died yesterday, in case you weren’t compulsively checking Twitter.

BAM.  Just like that, right?  Internet knowledge in your face.

It always sends me on a nice long Google/Wikipedia trail where I begin to soak up every little bit of knowledge I can about that person.  Did you know that Steve Jobs dropped out of college after one semester?  He later returned to audit a class.   It was Calligraphy.

There are all sorts of witty and wonderful things to say here.  Something in the fact that he returned to take a beautiful handwriting course when his contributions to the creation of the modern PC have led to oodles of kids not knowing how to write because they only know how to type.  Or even something about how this whole post is about being told abruptly of folks’ deaths via computer and was spawned by stumbling upon the passing of the man who “pioneered the concept of the Personal Computer” (CNN).

But all those witty wonderful things are eluding me.

I remember finding out that Heath Ledger died because a friend sent me a text.   I don’t know why it affected me so much.  There’s something incredibly heartbreaking to me about losing a young actor who showed so much promise.  I think it had a lot to do with the delivery as well.  After all, when I check a phone text I expect chit chat or quick questions.  I don’t expect “Hey, Heath Ledger died”.

When I was teaching at a performing arts camp a few summers go and we were all cut off from the use of our cell phones, there was a vicious rumor that Michael Jackson had died.  Of course, no one believed it.   Everyone thought it was someone taking advantage of the fact that we were without our technological verification devices.   Eventually on a session break, I was wandering around the area and saw a TV featuring the story.  That was my true confirmation.

That’s how I’m used to getting my news of high-profile deaths: from a big, talking box.  I’m used to a brightly colored ticker on the bottom of the screen wrapping it all up and pictures of the person’s life flashing in the background.  I’m used to a news anchor perfectly mastering the mix of sincerity and excitement to be on the breaking news of the day as they relay to me that someone I don’t know at all but feel strangely connected to has finally left this world.

Of course those who came before me were used to seeing it in headlines or hearing it on the radio, and try as I might I can’t imagine trying to cope with graduating from that to a talking box.

I wonder what the next step is.  Maybe we’ll all just get real time  news feeds tied to our brains.  We can have a little wire and receptor that shoots out of our ear.  You know, like Batty from Fern Gully?  

That way I can just get a robot voice in my head saying “(insert famous, shocking name here) has died” while I’m brushing my teeth.  Or maybe we can opt for the heart-attack free way of going about it – the voice can say “Good morning (insert your name here)!  I have some bad news today.  Please make your way to a seated position, hold yourself, and say ‘okay’ when you are ready to receive this information.”

Until then I’ll just have to hold myself and stay seated any time I check my news feed.  

You never know when a death will be sandwiched between dinner plans and bathroom tales. 

Ladies and Gentlemen: Batty.


The Domestic Twitter War

5 Oct

In a startling act of technological prowess, David has joined Twitter.

I’m not really sure why.  He didn’t even tell me about it.  He just, you know, tweeted one day to no one but himself and then casually texted me later to ask me if I saw it.

Of course I didn’t see it; I didn’t know he was on Twitter.

Nonetheless, I was excited to see him join another network I’m on (even getting him to maintain his musician page on Facebook is quite a daunting task) and was hoping it would be something he could get into.  But once I arrived, I saw his profile picture was an egg (the default for a Twitter newb) and that he had tweeted once…and only once…for two weeks. 

Today he excitedly asked me if I saw his Tweet again.  Of course, he didn’t really call it a tweet.  He called it a twitter.   And as much as I’d love to mock that somehow, I adore David and am choosing to take the stance that it’s all a bunch of made up mumbo jumbo anyway so who cares if he uses the term we’ve all agreed to use?

I still snickered at him.

Today’s tweet was something about how he was going to reverse his memory loss by devouring our almost-dead rosemary bush.

Some of you may remember that quite a few Lollipop Tuesdays ago, I attempted to fashion an herb garden in my dining room window.  I ended up sending Dave for the trappings I needed and in the excitement of the herbal additions in the house, he bought an enormous rosemary bush.

It was completely useless for the purposes of my Tuesday experiment, but hey: the man loves his rosemary.

Anyway they’re all dead now.  The whole lot of them.  By week one my mint dried up and died so completely that it simply fell to the carpet in defeat. By week 1.5, the parsley had turned completely brown and tired of life.  Week two brought no firm hope for the cilantro, which reached and reached for sunlight and happiness but simply couldn’t seem to get enough.  The basil clings for life still, in spite of his dead friends hanging by sad, dark threads beside him.

The rosemary bush, 5 times the size of the other herbs and not even a victim of my experiment, was dead by the second day.  Cause: overzealous felines.

So today David was sitting around, apparently worrying over his failing memory, looked up ways to fix it, and resolved to devour the plant.  Or what the cats had left behind of it anyway.  And using the new form of social media at his fingertips, tweeted this desire.

To me: his only follower.

I find this oddly charming.  He has created an account, isn’t following anyone, and hasn’t told anyone he’s on so no one is following him.  For now it’s like he’s shouting out to me from a corner of the Internet that anyone can hear but only I know to listen to.   I informed him of this today and he is highly amused by the idea of tweeting only to me. 

I suspect he’ll start to use it for fun household games, like telling me the trash needs to be taken out or asking me what’s for dinner each night.  Of course, he could do the same thing via text but it’s slightly more harassing and hilarious when it’s high profile.

I have a variety of retaliations in store for such an occurrence.  I’m not above creating another Twitter account just for nagging. This could be the beginning of a beautiful and entertaining war.  

I’ll be taking Twitter name suggestions all day. ♣    

Transitioning from Facebook to Google+

28 Sep

Before we begin, let me be clear: I’m not against change.

I’m against rapid change that I can’t get a handle on in my old, crotchety age.  I need time to adjust to something before it goes all snickersnack on me and shakes up again.  Else I feel lost in the ebb and flow of a technological sea that leaves me blubbering at the bottom, wondering why I ever even dipped my toes in.

I use this long, unnecessary sea metaphor to say one thing: I’m going to Google+.

Now I know that some of my readers are in fact old and crotchety and not just pretend old and crotchety like me and may not have any idea what I’m talking about.  So allow me to explain that Google+ is Google’s answer to Facebook.  Basically, Google+ is an attempt at creating a social networking platform where folks can share content with a sense of greater control over whom they share it with.  Google introduced the notion of “circles”, so that instead of simply “friending” someone (like on Facebook), you just add them to circles that you set up yourself.  For example, you might name three circles: family, friends, and coworkers.  Then you drag and drop appropriate folks into appropriate circles and then you have a choice to share your updates and information with one, some, or all every time that you add content.

It’s a great way to avoid that picture of you face-down on the bar with your bra strap showing ending up on the screen of your current boss.

Circles have a variety of fun possibilities.  For example, since no one knows what circle you have them in, you can name them anything at all.  I prefer a Seussical system, wherein coworkers are West Beasts, friends are Glotzes, and family are Zooks.

Anyway I have this whole theory about Facebook leading the way to George Orwell’s 1984 and am finally uncomfortable enough to make the switch to Google+.

I see the irony in how I feel safer with Google, which is clearly taking over the world.  I’m also aware that Dante also put people in circles.  I’m carrying on in full knowledge of the would-be legitimate claims of hypocrisy, and this is how:

Facebook answered Google+’s ideas by allowing people to create lists to sort their friends and share certain information with certain lists.  It also introduced a feature called “subscribe”, which essentially just means I’m electing to have someone’s updates show up in my news feed.  But the beauty of this feature isn’t in subscribing, really.  It’s in unsubscribing, and it will pave my soft, flowery path to the Googlemeister.

Over the past week, I have been slowly unsubscribing from people on Facebook who I don’t really care about.  I’m not trying to be mean – I’m just being honest.  Do I care that this person who I went to elementary school with but haven’t talked to since they bullied me in the tennis courts in third grade is eating a ham sandwich for lunch?

No, I don’t.  And so I shall unsubscribe from their ham-eating updates.

What’s better is that they don’t even know.  They’re friends with me – that’s all they see.  They have know way of knowing if I follow them or not.

So first I will unsubscribe from people I don’t care about.  Then I will unsubscribe from people that don’t ever have interesting updates.  And so on and so forth until I am left with only the cream of the crop in my mini-feed.  I will systematically chop people out of my information IV like a ruthless ruler.  And when I’m left with a very small group that represents those who I am interested in either for entertainment value or for the fact that they really are my friends and I care about them in a virtual sense, I will aggressively campaign for those people to come join me on Google+.

It’s a pretty solid plan and I think more people could make the switch if they slowly weaned themselves in a like manner.

There are a few matters of business to be carried out, of course.  For one, I have every single picture of myself for the last 7 years harbored on Facebook.  I stopped taking pictures when I realized that my friends would take pictures for me, log them, and label them.  So now I have about 600 pictures that I need to get Facebook before the switch or I will have no physical evidence of me being alive for what are supposed to be the most exciting times of my life.

It will be an epic undertaking.  There’s rumor of an app for that.  I shall Google it and relish in the irony.

But the most important thing that must be addressed before I can deactivate my Facebook account is what the appropriate terminology for enjoying something on Google is.  On Facebook you just click a thumbs up and say you “liked” it.  On Google+, there’s a little plus sign (+).  But how does one express that as a verb?  They plus-ed it?

I can’t just go joining  a virtual group of people without knowing the appropriate term.  Heaven forbid I throw out “Plus-ed” in casual conversation and it be wrong.  But once I get that taken care of, it’s off to the Googlemeister for my social networking needs.

That’s it for me and Facebook.  It’s going to be a slow, slightly painful, and definitely awkward transition.  But once I make it to the land of the Google, I can hang out with all my Glotzes, Zooks, and West Beasts.

Finding the Off Switch

24 Sep

I can’t turn my brain off.

I want to make it relax.  I want to just numb it with some stupid programming or with some mindless game, but I just can’t stand the thought of wasting that kind of time.

This is unlike me, and it’s frightening.

I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it all started when I got on Twitter.  I know, I know – I dedicated an entire post to my dislike and inability to understand Twitterage.  But one day it all clicked for me, and now I adore it.

What I like about Twitter isn’t that I can follow people’s trivial updates and opinions; I don’t much care for that.  I prefer to follow news sites and special interests.  I prefer to follow people that inspire me.  Don’t get me wrong; I’ll follow a few friends here or there; but I’m not checking my feed for them.  I’m checking my feed to feast on information.

I’ve been without television for about a year now.  I made a conscious choice to be without it because it made me lose all faith in humanity (Come on – Jersey Shore, celebrity challenges, dumb luck game shows, Desperate Housewives (of the real or unreal variety) – what exactly am I supposed to be watching?).  The only shows I cared to watch were few, far between, and usually on premium channels.  And then what’s the point of going through all the hassle of trying to schedule around shows that I want to watch when I could just Neflix them or watch them online?  That way I don’t even have to waste time with commercials. Television is incredibly inefficient.

My point is that I don’t get the news because I don’t have TV. And I’m not really the kind of person to open up three different news sites each morning to catch up with what’s going on in the world.  So I got on Twitter and followed News Sources – and got my fix in small, limited updates that had links to articles if I want to learn more.  No commercials, no fuss, and no information I don’t want to have to wait through for the good stuff.  It’s beautiful.

The problem here is that I seem to have started a chain reaction in my brain.  I can’t stop soaking up stuff.  I’m clicking links and reading articles like mad. I’m constantly blabbering on about what I read most recently and I have very little patience for mindless talk when I could be chatting about what’s going on in the world.  Today I considered listening to books on tape and listening to Podcasts on my walk home from work so that I can learn things while I can’t be at my computer learning things.  It’s spiraling out of control.  I’m constantly looking for the next fix.  I’m not content to sit in one place alone with my thoughts when I could be making to-do lists and conquering goals and reading about the world and soaking up information. 

You know that part in The Fifth Element where Leeloo is soaking up all the information about human history at the computer while eating an enormous bowl of instant microwave chicken?  That’s me.  Except for the hair.  And the super awesome body.  And the instant chicken.

I need to turn off my brain.  I can’t even make it go to sleep anymore.  I have to stay up so long that I beat it into submission.  I suppose this is a good thing.  Essentially, I’m reading a lot more than I ever had and I’m kind of getting addicted to it.  That’s pretty cool.  But on the other hand, sometimes all I want to do is sit down and veg out and I can’t find the off switch. 

Maybe this will go somewhere amazing.  Maybe I’ll turn out to be a well-informed individual that makes good, sound political decisions, knows what the state of our nation is, and keeps up with all of the stories that are shaping our time.  Maybe I’ll start listening to some crazy awesome podcasts that make me a specialist of some random topic that inspires me.  

Or maybe this is just a phase and by the end of next week I’ll be back on StumbleUpon every day and my Twitter account will go untouched.

Either way is a win I suppose.  Either I get to be smart or I get to sleep.

No one can have both. 

Dear Everything: Please Slow Down.

23 Sep

This is how confused I am. All of the time.

Everything keeps changing on me.

I must be getting old because that is supposed to be read as a negative thing.

As most of you know by now Facebook has rearranged its interface with a small but highly significant change where instead of viewing the most recent posts, you’re viewing the most recent/most popular/most likely to be wanted by you posts.  I’m trying to get used to it, just like I’ve gotten used to all their updates in the past.  But by golly is it becoming a pain to constantly feel like I have a handle on something and then have it shaken up again.

Then I logged into WordPress and find a “Follow” button was added at the bottom of my blog (and was subsequently removed my yours truly).  

A few days later, they changed the admin bar.  Again – no big deal and easily consumed, but ruffles the old, crotchety feathers nonetheless.

Then I check out the big Facebook announcement by the Zuckerberg himself yesterday at F8.   It appears all of our updates have really just been leading up to this one, enormous update wherein our Facebook profiles will read more like a scrapbook timeline than a snapshot of who we are at the moment.  You can check out the details here.

I breathed heavily, held on to the piece of furniture closest to me, and thought that to avoid these constant tremors I should probably just make the complete plunge into Google+ and leave Facebook in the dust, as I have once before.  But then it occurred to me that Google+ is just a little baby.  And it too, shall grow.

Not to mention I would have to pour all the dust out of my cerebrum in order to make room to learn a new social media platform.

Is there any way to just have people relax for a little while?  I’d like to get comfortable just a tad before the rug is pulled out from underneath me.  I can’t even complain that I like things the way they used to be because there have been so many versions of ‘what used to be’ that there’s no way to know what I’m referring to.

Nonetheless, I fear my brain is running out of go-juice.  I’ve been so proud of myself for finally branching out on my blog into CSS editing and for opening a Twitter account and for dipping my toes in Google+.  But this whole time I’ve just had a false sense of security and pride.  These things will always change, and I will never be on top of them.  And while that used to be fun and exciting, now it just costs me time and frustration.

A sign of aging, indeed.


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