Tag Archives: Internet

13.1k Likes

13 Aug

You know what’s scary? How big the internet is. It’s huge. It’s so huge, there’s no way to definitively measure it and have that figure be accurate for long.

So if you misplace a webpage and it doesn’t come up on the first page of google, it can feel like misplacing a child in Ikea.

When you lose something on the internet, you have two options. One is defeatist:

“I’m definitely never going to find that ever ever again,”

and one is blindly confident:

“I KNOW IT’S OUT THERE.”

This uncomfortable choice of attitudes will lead people to take all sorts of precautions. I myself, over the period of a couple months, chose to bookmark every webpage or I ever enjoyed or thought I might enjoy at some point.

That worked until I had to scroll through pages as long as the Count of Monte Christo to find that one gif I liked four days ago. I still haven’t deleted them all and honestly, I barely have the energy to try.

A lot of websites include a “like” function that lets you save things for later. What a thoughtful idea! Until you have 13.1 thousand likes and you know you put something in there just, like, a week ago that would totally come in handy right now if onLY YOU COULD FIND IT

I once searched for a specific comment on a Reddit thread for an intensely focused thirty minutes. This wouldn’t even be that bad, but I was at a party at the time. I was literally talking with someone at a party and interrupted myself to pull out my phone and say, “No wait, I’ve got to find it first.”

(Honestly that story makes the potentially well-balanced adult inside of me cry)

I once searched for a specific recipe for two and a half years before I found it. Given, it wasn’t near as intense a search as it was for the elusive reddit comment. But I started searching the day after I enjoyed a hastily-found internet recipe at a friend’s house, and I finished a year and a half after she had moved on, gotten married and moved house.

It wasn’t even all that good a recipe, to be honest. Not enough seasoning.

Anyway, my point is that I totally bookmarked that page anyway. I still have it bookmarked, just in case I want to relive a mediocre meatball experience in a weak effort to recapture a day that is now almost four years ago.

Because losing things is terrifying.

Webpages and images like the ones that I “like” on tumblr are supposed to be silly little nodes of entertainment, but whether or not I can find them again is still supposed to be something under my control and, though I screw up most of the things that are under my control, I still want something to be charge of, and if all that is is a difficult guitar tab for a song I no longer enjoy, then so be it, that thing is staying in my favorites folder until a sun flare burns up my laptop.

Losing things is terrifying. Letting go of unimportant things is meant to be this liberating experience, but it makes me feel like I’m dumping valuables in the trash and ever waiting for someone to come around and say

“Where did [insert thrown away item here] go?”

“Oh, that. I tossed it because I am unspeakably bad at processing consequences.”

This is a vivid example of why nostalgia is very threatening to me. Nostalgia is a sort of homesickness for a home that is no longer yours, because time is always going on. There are places and times you’re never going to return to, and that sounds so hopeless to me.

But it can’t be hopeless, can it? Nothing is really hopeless, even though I tell myself they are. After all, if I was able to go back and work in a moment I’d lived before, I would destroy it. (That’s kind of how I do) I would graffiti it with my escapist attitude and it would never be the same. As it is, I get new moments all the time. I’m making new mistakes because I know not to make the old ones.

I will have my new moments and I will make them what my old ones couldn’t be. I’ll get over the website I found mildly entertaining a couple of months ago. Not everything is in reality what it is in hindsight – and that’s okay.

To be clear, I’m not going to close this edit-post window and clear out all my bookmarks immediately. I am, however, going to delete a couple at a time. And you know what? I’m still going to save the meatball recipe, because they were fun to make, and I really believe I can make them tastier. Because all my moments are new ones, and things can keep getting better as long as I can keep trying to improve things.

Have a really good day, and please, for the love of your sanity, keep all your bookmark folders full of important things.

The Sound[s] of Settling

26 Mar

I care about things a lot. You get that, don’t you? Both of us can be enthusiastic about a world of ridiculous stuff. Barrages of whatever-it-is-now that we get excited about lead us into some of the most inconvenient series of emotions we’ve ever had or ever will. It’s kind of terrible.

Oftentimes, that inconvenient excitement is expressed in rather adoring and/or eccentric ways. I find I’m much more likely to find a self-proclaimed Fanboy/girl who has drawn numerous pieces of fanart of their favorite subjects than a self-proclaimed Fanboy/girl who thinks that such an outpouring is excessive. It’s just the way we are.

That being the way we are, we as fans like to seek out people and things that go well with our obsessions. This includes music. One of the biggest pulls for a song in the first place is how much it relates to its audience – we like to look for ourselves in our music. We want the  songs we listen to be able to be featured on the soundtracks for our lives.

In light of this fact, I’ve taken the liberty of finding a couple pieces that relate to me a little too well, or at least to the fangirl aspect of me.

Feel free to see if you can relate.

Piano Song by Meiko.

/I try so hard not to notice/I try so hard not to care/I try so hard not to know that you’re not here/But I’m counting down the hours/And I’m counting up the days*

*Oh, don’t pretend you’ve never counted down to a season, movie, or book premiere. You know what you did.

/I try so hard not to show this side of me*

*And we have all been there. Hiding a fan nature is exhausting.

The song goes on to describe how the singer is jealous of the people who get to be around the object of her attention, because “I don’t think they know just what they’ve got.”

Guilty. Not proud, but guilty.

And very  not alone, I think. In fact, a little bit ago, I saw a pin on Pinterest of Tom Hiddleston kissing a young woman, directly above a meme about a mourning fangirl who had been left in the dust. Apparently, Hiddles and his pictured lady have broken up now (as I learned from the three dozen or so relieved comments below the image), but I felt that the whole frantic ordeal caused by the picture really revealed something about fangirls.

Not sure what, but something.

How’d that gif get here? Totally not applicable. Not at all. I’ll delete it later.

But for now – next song!

Better Life by Paper Route.

/All the bridges that I’ve burnt/All the new ways that I hurt*

*How you as a fan will inevitably feel when you become immersed in a new story that is destined for tragedy.

/You gave up and I lost track/When you love someone who don’t love back/It doesn’t matter who’s at fault/Nothing matters now at all*

*Oh look, the you have now become infatuated with yet another fictional character/actor/musician. Just another day in the life ( ha, life, hilarious).

/I might have have said too much/I might have said too much/I won’t forget your touch/I’m saying too much*

*The second you realize you’ve been talking about Star Trek for twenty minutes to someone who started hating your guts exactly ten minutes ago.

And of course, as the title of the song breaks through the surface of the lyrics, the singer reminds you that “a better life, a better life is waiting.” This bit is reminiscent of the voice (of reason?) in the back of your head that sees the trouble you go through for all your cosplay, feverish album-buying, and clunky emotions. It lays an incorporeal hand on your shoulder, and reminds you that this is probably not the best or most productive thing you could be doing with your life.

Quick, pause the song. You don’t need that kind of negativity.

Next up:

Maintain Consciousness by Relient K

Our concentration, it contains a deadly flaw/our conversations change from words to bla bla bla*

*The voice (of reason?) is back

We took prescription drugs/look how much good that did/well I think I had a point/but I just got distracted/lately it just seems to me/like we’ve got the letters ADD/branded into our mentalities/we simply can’t focus on anything

*sweats nervously*

And that one thing of the moment/that we all happen to like/will only very temporarily kinda break the cycle/of the double-edged sword/of being lazy and being bored/we just want more and more and more/till it’s all we can afford*

*Okay, now stop immediately. I know I sound like a broken record now, but there’s nothing bad, wrong, or silly about enjoying things. Nothing whatsoever.  Being enthusiastic about something that means a lot to you is a beautiful thing, and this song is not saying that it isn’t. But I personally find myself needing to make sure not all that joy of mine is boxed up in one, temporary facet. There’s a lot out there to deserve our attention. Let’s use it wisely.

/Cause it’s completely up to us/to maintain consciousness

________________________

There. Now, if my life were a musical (and it is), then you would have just gotten a preview into which songs would be featured. ::

What songs do you want in your life soundtrack?

*To Be Read in River Song’s Voice*

22 Nov

Spoilers.

Long before the word “spoilers” conjured up a mental image of one of my favorite time-traveling companions, it meant what is has always meant – foreknowledge of a subject that, as indicated, spoils it.

I’ve had far too much experience with this particular delight.

A lot of it was my fault, like the time I begged my sister to tell me why she was so depressed at the end of Mockingjay, or when I knowingly watched “Turn Left” from series four of Doctor Who before I even started season three.

Of course, spoiling has also just been due to unfortunate happenstances, such as when my sister and I tripped over some Doctor Who series seven plot points the day of the season premiere, and that one time when I accidentally did anything on the internet before reading The Fault in our Stars.

Seriously.

I still haven’t gotten around to reading that book, but, somehow, I can quote it for days.

All this to say, I don’t usually do enough to stay away from spoilers, what with the internet existing, and my priorities being all out of order. But a problem has arisen that requires me to play a little game I like to call “The Internet is Lava.”

If you had a childhood, you can probably guess how this game is played. Just for reference, it’s just ever so slightly less enticing than its eponymous schoolyard counterpart.

In any case, the problem that made this game necessary is as follows: I’m going to miss the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary episode. Now it’s not quite as bad as all that, I am still seeing it, as a theater in my town has graciously made it possible for me to see it three days later on Monday night.

I will be dressing up as Eleven and attending with my gorgeous friends Wasp and Invisible Woman, and my lovely [and tenaciously patient] mother. You could say I’m kind of excited.

I’m stupid excited.

But the fact remains that that is three days after every other fanboy and girl with BBC or BBCAmerica has seen it, reviewed it, gif-ed it, story-boarded it, and fanfic-ed it.

And for me, the internet, until that third day, will be a yawning pit of seductively available foreknowledge.

Dangerous thing, foreknowledge.

So between Saturday and Tuesday, I’m going radio silent as far as internet is concerned.

And when I get back, if the past is any indicator, you’ll know me from the all-caps declaration of how many times I died during the episode.

What about you all? Are viewing parties in the works, or is anyone else planning to play the internet is lava with me?

Open in New Tab

11 Sep

Friends, family, fangirls:

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the world is full of things.

Full of them.

There is an abundance of stuff, indoors and outdoors, in people’s heads, on their tongues, hidden in places we’ll never find, and on billboards for everyone to see. It’s everywhere you look.

Therefore, focusing on just one of those things is a task whose difficulty I consistently underestimate.

Focus is harder than you would expect an unobtrusive, two-syllable word to be. And in this generation, it is even worse. I usually try to console myself by saying that of course I have problems focusing, all Half-bloods have ADHD symptoms, so why should I be any exception?

That excuse is a little more problematic that I like my excuses to be, but I take what I can get.

When I can’t focus, my brain turns into a weird Twilight Zone version of youtube. I’ve got one thing going over here, and I’m trying to pay attention to it, but there’s something in my mental sidebar I need to check out as well. So I hit “open in new tab” and try to remember to think about that next. Then I see something else I should look at. Thirty seconds later I have forty-two tabs open, and some of the audio is overlapping and I can’t find which one is making the noise and anyway the internet connection is slowing down and nothing is working anyway and then

nope.

Any semblance of concentration I had has evaporated.

Time to lie down and try to calm the brain-static.

Or

Maybe I’ll just open a new tab and browse something to settle my mind down!

Even worse: Maybe I’ll just open a new tab and browse something while I work in another window!

Public service announcement: You cannot write a speech and watch Psych at the same time. There. I just saved you two hours of poorly-written drivel and not-properly-enjoyed Psych. You’re welcome.

I don’t know about you guys, but I am a multitasker only in that I like to sing show tunes while I wash dishes. If I try anything else, especially academics-related, the only result is that I do two things poorly instead of just one.

That’s efficiency, people. Take notes. And even without the multi-tasking trap, sometimes I use other ways to trick myself into opening that new tab; such as logging onto pinterest to inspire my brain to do something creative. Adorably naive of me, I know.

As much as you might think it will, clicking through pins of TARDIS-themed shoes, Misha Collins, Great Gatsby quotes, and plant terrariums does not give a brain ideas.  It just goes,

     “Hey, this is fun. We should do nothing more often.”

“I brought you here to get inspired, brain.”

     “That so? You’re hilarious. But not as hilarious as this gif of Zachary Quinto.”

“Mm, you have a good point.” *opens gif in new tab*

I think I’ve made my point. It’s barely even the problem of procrastination – it’s distraction. And procrastination. There’s a fair amount of both, but hey, stay with me here, I’m getting to the point in the post that you read in your serious voice.

I was talking about the overabundance of stuff at the beginning of this post. It’s not just school that is affected by stuff, there’s work, there’s relationships, there’s good old fashioned life. Stuff is still there. Distractions and obstacles and hurdles made of the stuffiest stuff that stuff can be made out of.

This post is stuff.

I’m sorry, but it’s true. I’ve lured you into more stuff.

Stuff is by no means always terrible thing. There’s just a limit to how much we can handle at once. Being bogged down by a lot of good uses for your time is still being bogged down. It’s more than okay to take a break and get away from stuff.

If this post is one of the things between you and that thing you have to get done, I apologize. Hit the little X button on the top of this window and flee to somewhere where nothing has a glowing screen.

Trust me, that wakes up your brain and brings it to attention far faster than any board on Pinterest.

I’m doing okay so far. I know that focus is attainable.

If I can just stay in one tab for a while, then I’ll be fine.

Socially Involved

15 Aug

Social media is brilliant. It can bring attention to a cause, traffic to a business, or friends to friends. Not to mention, it gives us a way to be “social” without leaving our safe little wifi fortresses.

However, as with many beneficial things, there is a flip side.

According to the mainly speculative and/or imaginary studies conducted by myself, social media’s main endeavor seems to be to make “friends” want to slap each other in the mouth.

Why is this? That’s what the researchers researcher at Mainly Speculative Studies has been trying to figure out.

When I was just a tater tot (thirteen years old), I was eager, to say the least, to get a facebook. My two older sisters had had theirs for quite a while, and every time I saw them updating a status, I gave an inward sigh and longed for the day when I, too, would grace the internet with witty, yet insightful, updates about my life. The day finally arrived when I got one. I set up an account with an eighteen-character password (which is way more trouble than my privacy is worth), and wrote my first post about my elk hunting trip.

(And then about seventeen seconds later, I accepted a friend request from the only vegan I know. Oops.)

Anyway, when we all got facebooks and other various social media accounts, it was a brave new world.

And it wasn’t long before we all became disillusioned.

Grammar errors. That’s just a given. Every English nerd out there is disappointed with the internet. But then there were vague “Don’t even ask about how crummy I’m feeling right now” and the “You know who you are” posts.

There was that one person who puts seven ellipses in every status.

There was that one relative who think he’s building everyone up with his twice-a-day inspirational quotes.

And then, oh yes, hashtags were finally enabled for people who wanted to know how many of their facebook friends had a #sunburn. (No one. No one wants to know that.)

And social media uneasiness: Making sure that post is perfect, looking to see if your pin got as many repins as you think it deserved, finding that someone has tagged you in a photo that is less than adorable – these worries don’t make for impeccable mental health.

I once had a fifteen-minute conversation with an acquaintance about how annoying it was when you were friend-requested by someone you barely knew. I found them on facebook a week later and, due to our conversation, I ended up debating with myself for way too long about whether or not I should send them a friend request. Hurrah anxiety!

(For those of you keeping score at home, this person friend-requested me the next day, and I almost resented their decisiveness.)

I’m not even going to go into the almost irresistible urge to cyber-stalk people. We’ve all been there. And then ran out of there as fast as we could, deleted our internet history, and denied that we’d been there in the first place.

It’s an occupational hazard.

But all these things can affect how you see people, whether their twitter convinces you of their cleverness, or their instagram informs you that a couple of your friends have an unhealthy obsession with photographic documentation of food.

Social media is a necessary tool for businesses of the modern age, and a very advantageous one for everyday, individual use. But I would be lying through my deceptive little teeth if I claimed that it wasn’t to blame for a lot of lost respect.

What do you guys think? Mainly Speculative Studies wants your opinion.

[UPDATE: at least a couple of you are lying about being Loki]

Lest we forget, polls are most definitely one of the ups of social media. I would love to see what other its other users think, as it is a possibility that other people aren’t quite so easily annoyed as I seem to be.

Now get out there and be social.

(And yes, you can go ahead and take that however you want)

The Sneaky Cycle of the Serial Program

29 May

Having Netflix is like having all of time and space in your backyard.

Enchanting? Yes.

Irresistible?  Very nearly.

Dangerous? More than I can say.

At the beginning, it is all innocent enough. First you think, “I can watch that one TV show that I don’t have the channel for!” but then it turns into, “I heard good things about that show! Also this show. And that one. Probably.” until it finally devolves into, “That film exists. Might as well partake!”

Even more sinister is the amount of shows on Netflix. You could never really run out of them, and if you did, well, welcome to your first interaction (albeit over the internet) with another human being! We have support groups for people like you. (They’re also on the internet. Imagine that!)

And TV shows are sneakier than movies. With movies, you can have closure. When the credits roll after something like Megamind, you think, That was a lovely movie. I might watch it again someday.

After the end sequence of an episode of Lost, you think, I’m going to watch this show until it literally kills me, aren’t I? 

Because TV shows keep going! You have more each week! (Or, if you have Netflix, all the time) And with a weekly dose, you begin to form a habit. I got to the point that every Sunday night, I was sitting down to watch Once Upon a Time and thinking, I hope this episode isn’t as bad as it was last week. (It invariably was) My dad heard about my system and informed me that this habit was just as bad as continuing to date someone who never lived up to my expectations. I replied by telling him that I was sure that if I just stayed with the show a little longer, I could change it for the better.

This is what normal people refer to as “a problem.” However, I’m glad to say that Once Upon a Time and I are now taking time away from each other, and we’re both acting very mature about it.

I’ve noticed that television shows that you don’t end up disliking tend to stick to the following steps:

     1. Introduction. Maybe you know someone who watches the show, and you watch it out of courtesy/curiosity. Or maybe you’ve just been wondering about the show for a while and you decide to give it a try.

     2. Interest. This is when you realize the show is pretty okay. Maybe you’ll watch the next episode, possibly even the rest of the season. You know, if you get around to it.

     3. Intrigue. Now you like the show. Why hadn’t you heard about if before? Maybe you’ll attend a marathon showing of this program. You might even tell a couple other people about how good it is.

     4. Insanity. This is when you’re watching episodes you’ve already seen three times. This is when you start buying merchandise related to the show. This is when you start making references to people who don’t even know who you are, much less what the show is. And of course, this is when you turn to the internet for help with your now out-of-control feelings. And you start a blog.

Some people stop with the first three steps, and that is fine, not to mention socially acceptable. I even know a couple people who only went to step #2 and #3 with Doctor Who, and that’s downright impressive to me.

Book series are just as perilous, and often follow the same steps. The only difference there is that instead of Netflix, the place to go to entirely lose your wits is called a “library.” (And it’s the most glorious place on earth)

The main thing we have to watch is where enjoying something turns into wasting far too much time on something. Hey, if a story is going to keep going on, we want to be there to witness it. And there’s no shame in that!

Just be warned. It’s dangerous out there, and it’s infinitely more dangerous to go alone.

Take a fangirl with you.

Adventures in Anxiety

22 May

Responsibility. Money. The future. Relationships.

If you’re anything like me, you’re considering opening another tab to look at cute pictures of sweater-wearing kittens now, because those words just made you nervous. And if you weren’t considering the kittens then, you are now. Who could blame you, though?

Anyway, you’re in good company.

Anxiety. It’s been around so long, most of us greet him like an old friend (albeit one of those friends that makes you screen your calls and want to hide in a closet when he’s around). I usually deal with my anxiety with what I have dubbed the “Calvin and Hobbes” method.

It involves pretending I don’t have to deal with anything, and retreating into my own mind.

This isn’t a very efficient method, but hey, it…

Hm.

I actually have zero validation for that method. But I think you get the picture. Anxiety makes cowards and madmen of all its unlucky victims. 

Anxiety always starts for me because I’m thinking too hard – but never about the right things. And it doesn’t help that it always seems to happen at bedtime, when my mind is already going haywire. The voices in my head (maybe I should not admit to having those) start coming up with all sorts of great ideas at night.

“Hey! You know what would be fun to think about? What other people think about you!”

“No.”

“Remember that one stupid thing you did two and half years ago?”

“Shut up.”

“Well, I remember. And so does everyone else.”

“I don’t want to think about it, Brain!”

“I bet everyone else is. Hey, I have an idea! Let’s think about every stupid thing you’ve ever done ever!”

“BRAIN WAT R U DOING STAHP”

“Are you thinking in memes? That’s pretty sad.”

“I know. Sorry.”

I just admitted that I sometimes think in internet memes. My mind will never let me live this one down. Of course, it’s been wreaking havoc on me for quite a while. Why would it stop now?

Years ago, my brain decided fourteen-year-old girls were the scariest beings imaginable. I’m not sure why the age of fourteen stood out to me in particular, but it did. I remember going to youth group, seeing the clique of fourteen-year-olds giggling in a corner and hoping beyond hope that they didn’t notice I was existing so close to them. This fear lasted until I was well into fourteen years old myself, and finally realized that maybe – just maybe – this was one of those irrational fears, like fear of welcome mats, doorknobs, or realtors.

Not long after this I became aware of my phone anxiety. This one made about as much sense as dodging female junior highers did. Talking on the phone made me twitchy, unhappy, and altogether the most awkward person you could ever talk to on the telephone.

I’m better now, I promise. Not great, but better. However, I still feel that if I can’t look someone in the face when we’re talking, I feel like I’m missing out on most of the conversation.

Mostly, though, I become anxious because it’s just my nature.

I’m selfish. I want everything to be comfortable and low-stress and low-responsibility and I will stress out and run away if my environment does not promise those things. However, what I’ve found out is that the world into which I must soon launch myself does not promise that. And I’m gonna have a hard time running away from the entire world. At least unless my fantasy back-up plan kicks in and I can just run away with the

“The Doctor isn’t real, you know.”

“SHUT UP BRAIN, YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR.”

I probably shouldn’t have finished that sentence anyway. I’ll just leave it there.

All this to say,

“Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?” Luke 12:25

In all my years of worrying as hard as I can, I have never worried away a problem. You can take my word for it. Because, chances are, running away from the world and its responsibilities may not actually get you anywhere worth going.

Unless, of course, you have a really fabulous back-up plan.

Why the Internet Is a Supervillain and We All Have Stockholm Syndrome

8 Apr

Stockholm Syndrome: a condition that arises when victims of a kidnapping or hostage situation begin to sympathize with and even defend the person who has them captive.

I’ll be honest. I know this feeling. If you’re on the internet right now, reading a blog, you know the feeling too. When we first got involved in the internet, it was weird. Uncomfortable. Foreign.

The library website knows my card number? WHAT ELSE DOES IT KNOW ABOUT ME?

Disturbingly Moriarty-esque, the internet pulls us in with knowledge of us and the things we love – and then it keeps us doing what it wants with those same things. It makes you believe that the only way to beat it is to do something drastic like throwing yourself off a high place or cancelling your facebook account.

Related image

Both terrifying.

But then, your mind starts to change. The internet starts to become commonplace.

Well, I really ought to keep in touch with my friend’s friend from Japan, so I’ll make an account on Google Plus for that reason.  

But then?  You’re in the middle before you know that you’ve begun. Just as you start to realize that the internet’s become normal, it becomes needed. You’re in a brutal Hunger Games arena of knowledge and entertainment and what is now “social,” and you have to compete to survive. Without it, you will be left to forage on your own in the increasingly frightening wilderness, not even being able to Google which berries are not deadly. You can’t give it up. And, in fact, you don’t even want to.

I can’t stop Pinterest. I have important stuff on there! What if I delete my boards and then someone proposes to me? The wedding will be a disaster without the 1,327 pins I saved for that very purpose!

And the cycle is complete. We have Stockholm Syndrome. Beginning the journey that is the internet, we hoped that our effect would be like Belle’s effect on the Beast. We dreamed that our being close to the internet would turn it into a loving being and that we would both be the better for having been together. But the internet turned out to be Gaston – he wants to make us love him, but he won’t truly love us in return.

And, thanks to the syndrome, we stick around anyway.

There are a lot of good reasons to be on the internet. I know this very well. But there are not as many good reasons as there are bad ones. I know this very well.

So I’ll start small. Just take some time away from this supervillain today.

Dear Internet (AKA: The Conversation Everyone Has with the World Wide Web at Some Point)

3 Mar

Hello Internet.

I think it’s time we talked.

Please don’t get nervous, I know everyone dreads “the talk.” But I really need to know.

Internet, where is this relationship going?

I mean, hardly a day has gone by in the past year when we haven’t seen each other. It’s not like we don’t talk, but we never really communicate. Every time I think we’re making some progress, you always seem to change the subject. Remember yesterday? I was just trying to talk to you about organization and you were all, “Hey, have you heard about ‘Busty Girl Problems’? They’re freaking hilarious.”

And they were, man. They were.  But that isn’t the issue.

I’ve been trying to focus on school lately, you know that. So why is it you call me late at night just to hang out? It’s sweet, I understand that! Any woman would want someone so devoted. But to be perfectly honest, if we have to hang out in Google Chrome one more late night when I’m trying to do my homework, I’m going to puke.

And your friends! I don’t mean to be rude, but Facebook is ruining my life! Have you ever really spoken to that guy? He won’t. Stop. Gossiping. It’s gotten to the point where everyone he talks about I end up hating. I can’t tell if he just makes them look bad or if they really do suck as much as he makes them seem!

Youtube isn’t so bad, but once you start talking to him, you just can’t stop. He’s all, “Hey, if you like talking about Dr. Horrible, why not talk about Doctor Who or Sherlock or Lizzie Bennet?” And I’m like, “We’re already talking about Dr. Horrible though,” And he says, “It’s okay, I’ll just add it to our list of things to talk about later,” and I say, “You even have one of those? But I have homework!” and he says, “It’s okay, when I stop for breath you can pretend to read.”

I’m not going to complain about Tumblr. We’ve actually been pretty tight since I found out we like a lot of the same stuff. Even if I am pretty sure the lights are not all on upstairs. And I think she may be a stalker. She has a lot of pictures she shouldn’t have.

Pinterest. Don’t get me started. That woman is one crazy maniac. She thinks she knows everything about everything, but she’s always misquoting people and pretending to be something she’s not.

You sure can pick ‘em, Internet.

Maybe we aren’t as good together as I thought we were. I thought we were going to work as a team and achieve things we couldn’t do alone. But you don’t need me, do you? And you’re really not helping me as much as I feel I deserve in this relationship.

Don’t give me that look.

Stop. You know that pictures of kittens don’t work on me anymore. I’ve moved on.

Thank you for accepting that. That’s very mature. See? We’re two adults.

Well, one.

Half of one. Whatever.

What’s that? You have some inspirational quotes for me to help me on my journey?

Thanks.

Maybe we do deserve another try.