Category Archives: Posts that will get me hate mail

So where do we go from here?

This post peppered with medicinal kittens because smarter people are writing better things so I’m doing this instead.

This was a lot of us the night of the election:

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If you’re like me you’ve been spending the last days feeling helpless and uncertain what to do.

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Some things are easy, like donating to causes that you feel are important and might get left behind.  Some are harder, like reaching out to people who are hurting even if you don’t know how to help and are afraid you’ll fuck it all up and make it worse.

A lot of us keep getting stuck in that place where we hate humanity and are ready to become hermits.

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Things feel upside down and scary.  Your emotions are valid.  It’s okay to be angry or scared or freaked out for yourself or for people you love.

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Practice self-care.  Take a walk.  Do some art.  Sit in the grass and drink a booze-slushie.  Read a book.  Watch Doctor Who.  Avoid the internet when it gets to be too much.

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There’s some crazy-ass bullshit out there and the craziest bullshit has the loudest voice.  Do not engage the crazy people.  Someone calling you the c word is not someone to be reasoned with.  Pick your battles.  There will be plenty.

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It’s going to hurt for awhile.  So much so that you might not have the strength to help yourself.  Ask for help.  You aren’t alone.  Sometimes you need help to pull yourself off the train tracks, and sometimes you’ll be the person pulling someone else off.  This is how we survive.

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Look for goodness.  There are so many people posting loving and caring responses or who are there to give hugs and protection.  There are so many more than you think.  Look for those glimmers of light.

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We may disagree on many things but I feel confident that anyone who is a member of this community wants safety, equality, justice and happiness for every minority group that is afraid today.  This is a safe place and that is a needed thing.  Thank you for providing that.

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There are serious problems in the world today and writing a post filled with kitten gifs is fucking ridiculous.  But ridiculous is what I do best.  And kittens are the closest thing we have to medicinal marijuana in Texas so I’m working with what I have.

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Once you feel better though it will be time to turn your hand to making things better in a world that seems more divided than it ever has been.   Maybe it’s just smiling at everyone you meet.  Maybe it’s paying for the person behind you in the Starbucks drive-thru.  Maybe it’s donating to charities and organizations that help others who are struggling.  Maybe it’s just not screaming at people even though you really want to.  Maybe it’s letting people scream at you because you know they need space to vent.  Maybe it’s adopting a rescue animal and hiding away until you feel strong again, or volunteering at a hospital or homeless shelter.  Maybe it’s talking to your kids to ask if they’ve heard anyone being particularly cruel at school lately and making sure they know how to deal with it and how to report it.  Maybe it’s just ignoring this post and not writing something hateful about it even though you really, really want to.  Maybe it’s forgiving others or yourself.  Maybe it’s just continuing to breathe and not hurt yourself or others.  Those are all big things.

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Whatever it is, I’m grateful.  It starts small.  It starts with us.  Me and you.

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PS. Back to non-political stuff next week.  Promise.  Also, my last post was political and had over 400 comments and so far they are overwhelmingly compassionate and empathetic and encouraging.  That’s a small miracle, you guys, but it’s one we keep pulling off.  Thank you for being amazing and being a safe place for so many of us.

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PPS.  Happy Veterans Day.  Thank you to all those who serve to protect us.  I hope we can protect you right back.

It’s going to be okay.

UPDATED: It’s the morning after now and I feel like I got hit with a truck.  But what I said in this post is still valid and I stand behind it.  I’m updating this post though with a very helpful comment was left on my last Facebook post and I’m sharing it here in case you need it: “For those who could use some support, text 741741. Free, confidential, anonymous. There may be some slower response times than the usual < 5 minutes, but crisis counselors are doing an amazing job responding to such a huge influx. LGBTQ, people of color, assault survivors, differently abled, other religions – ANYONE feeling overwhelmed about what this means for you? Feeling alone, anxious, maybe even in despair? There is help. Sending you love. Just in case anyone reading this needs help tonight or another night.”

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It’s election day morning and I’ve thought a lot about what to write here.  I’ve rewritten it a dozen times.  If you read here you already know I’m super liberal so you can probably guess who I voted for.  If you’re like me (even if you voted for the person I despise) you’ve watched each debate and ad and tweet and endless, crazy bullshit and you feel an incredible amount of anxiety over what will happen today.  I feel it too.  And the thing I most want to hear right now is the thing I’m telling you.

We’re going to be okay.

We will. Because no matter who wins and no matter who you voted for you will still have the opportunity to fight each day for what you want to see in the world.  Fight for justice or kindness or acceptance or love or equality or whatever it is that is still lacking.  You will not fight alone. You still make a difference. In some cases you make more of a difference than a President ever will. Either way, you’ll be needed tomorrow (and every day after) to promote joy and love and grace even if you’re tired.  You will be better for it and so will the world.

We’re going to be okay. Even if the next President ends up being a sack full of sick ferrets we will be okay. We will still have our family. We will still have love. We will still have people fighting for what they believe in. We will have a better understanding of who we are as people and how we need to get better. We will have a better understanding of our capacity for love and for fear. We will have parties who know that their secrets are never really secret and that they need to be better. That benefits us all.  We will have seen disgusting behavior exposed so our children know what is and is not okay. We will have seen how easy it is to spread lies. We will have proof for our children that anybody (No, really…ANYBODY) can be President. We will have hard conversations at family dinners where we change minds and hearts and sometimes find our own changed and challenged. We will do it softly or we will do it loudly but we will not stop because we are Americans and it is our constitutional right to sometimes be stupid assholes and sometimes be noble and selfless and most of the time be a bit of both. We will have a reason to fight harder for what we believe in, and a reason to choose a good fight…one that makes a difference in positive ways for all of us. And that’s what America is all about.

Even during the darkest parts of history you can look back and see the glimmers of goodness shining through, and the light winning over, and the unlikely heroes being made, and the people becoming sharper and stronger and more clearly defining who they are and what they stand for, because they had no other choice but to choose. And that is necessary. It is hard. It is terrible. It is scary. It is beautiful. It is all of those at once but turned up to eleven. And that is us. And no matter what happens on election day, we will be okay. We will still be us. We will still be imperfect and flawed and good and bad and scared and brave and we will have so many more opportunities to become better than we are. To maybe even be better than okay. To maybe one day be great.

But until that day comes…we’re going to be okay.

I promise.

PS. If I could limit comments to just the usual readers then I know they would be funny and kind and compassionate, but I suspect this might get attention from people outside of this community so maybe skip the comments here for once. Or if you see people being shitty in the comment section about me or you or whoever it is you’re voting for just ignore them. Let them vent. Yelling into the void in my comment section might let them blow off the steam they need so they don’t take it out on their family or friends, and that is a good thing. Ignoring it and still beaming out love (or at least a good, Southern “Oh, bless their stupid hearts”) is your selfless act for the day. Because like it or not, we’re all in this together.

This isn’t a real post

This isn’t a real post.  Just checking in to say a few things that I have on my list of things to write about but that I haven’t written about because I haven’t had time to make into a polished post because I’ve been working on my next book (FINALLY MY BRAIN IS ALMOST WORKING AGAIN) but if I wait any longer I won’t write it at all and I’ll forget it…so, here is my mind dump of a few things you should know.

  1.  Are you listening to the INVISIBILIA podcast on NPR?  You should be.  I just discovered it a few months ago and I’ve been pouring through them and the one I listened to yesterday (The Problem with the Solution) totally gut-punched me.  But in a good way.  Just…ow.
  2. Y’all, it’s not out yet but Samantha Irby’s new book is so good it made me vomit.  Like, I want to smother her and take credit for writing it but then everyone would be like, “Wait.  You’re a black orphan with Crohn’s disease?  WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?”  But the book doesn’t come out until forever and I’m gonna forget to tell you about it when it does come out because I’m the worst so just remind me to tell you again when it’s available for preorder.  Or read her last book again while you’re waiting.  But then writing that reminded me of the book I read last year that was SO good and I wanted to tell everyone about it but it still had a billion months until publication so instead I just called my friends and read aloud from it while simultaneously aghast and giggling hysterically and I just went to check and it comes out this month so go order that shit right now because it was one of the best things I read this year.  It’s called UNMENTIONABLE: The Victorian Lady’s Guide to Sex, Marriage, and Manners.  It’s super gross and fascinating.  Like Mary Roach’s Stiff, but funnier.
  3. Speaking of books, I am a constant reader and I was thinking it would be cool if we had a bookclub, but I’m too lazy for that so what if I just put the name of the book I’m currently reading on a blog post each week and then in the comments you can discuss?  Except I pretty much only read nonfiction, sci-fi, fairy tales and graphic novels so it would be a very, very limiting bookclub.  Not sure about this one.  Just a thought I keep having.
  4. You know those metal kits I’ve been making for years when my anxiety gets high because working with the tiny pieces keeps me from picking away at myself?  (If not, read 1000 ferris wheels here.) I just finished a new one.  It took two hours to make it because it was 30+ tiny pieces but THE DOORS OPEN AND CLOSE.  WHAT.

    MOTHERFUCKIN' TARDIS, Y'ALL.

    MOTHERFUCKIN’ TARDIS, Y’ALL.

  5. Hunter S. Tomcat is sitting in the chair next to me and he has this enormous grin of contentment and I thought, I should share this, but then I realized I haven’t cleaned the cat fur off the seat cushion in 3 days so it looks filthy, but whatever.  A little bit of filth should not stand in the way of happiness.  In fact, a little bit of filth is sometimes the only road to happiness.  But that’s another story.
  6. He looks like he's wearing a tiny little white g-string.

    He looks like he’s wearing a too-small, tiny white g-string.

  7. Dorothy Barker decided she wanted in on this.  This is my dog when I say “bacon”.
    YOU ARE MY FAVORITE PERSON, BACON.

    “YOU ARE MY FAVORITE PERSON, BACON.”

    It’s not even real bacon. It’s fake dog bacon and it taste like sadness and giving up.  It smells like bacon though, which is why I tried it.  I thought I found a cheap bacon alternative that would help me keep my coat shiny but no, the bacon is a lie.  A beautiful one though, according to this dog.

  8. I use a lot of affiliate links in my posts but the money I get if you order stuff just goes back to the community when we do Booksgiving or Christmas miracles and stuff.  Just FYI in case you’re new to the tribe.
  9. I’m in Cincinnati this weekend signing books and stuff.  Come see me.  It’s free.
  10. There is no number 10 but I like to end on a round number.  Hugs.  ~ me

There is a line. And I’m not sure if it’s been crossed but maybe we’re standing on it?

I’ve had a lot of people send me links to this auction where a woman is selling a purse made out of a dead cat (it was already dead if that makes it less awful for you) and half of the people are like, “THIS IS AWESOME AND I TOTALLY THOUGHT OF YOU” and the other half are like, “THIS IS SICK AND HORRIFIC AND I TOTALLY THOUGHT OF YOU” and either way I can’t decide if I should be insulted, or just happy that you all know me so well, so I’m sticking with the latter.

Via Trade Me

Via Trade Me

And although I do appreciate the thought, this is one of the few times when I looked at terrible taxidermy and thought, Um…maybe not.  First of all because of the shedding, secondly because it’s looking at me reproachfully, third because it looks a bit too much like Hunter S. Thomcat and I’m pretty sure it would give all of the cats nightmares.  Besides, I already own an easter basket made of a 100-year-old armadillo, an antique coin purse made of a frog, and hat made out of an ethically taxidermied raccoon face, and I suspect there’s a limit to how many animals you can wear at one time, even if they did all die of natural causes.  Also, the starting bid is $1400 which is just ridiculous, especially considering that I could probably make it myself.  Not that I would.  Unless someone I really hated was allergic to cats.  Then maybe I would make one just to keep them away from me.  But it seems like it would be easier to just put Hunter S. Thomcat in a Baby Bjorn and carry him around strapped to my chest.  Except he has anxiety too so he gets scared when we travel and gets AWFUL, explosive traveler’s diarrhea.  Which would probably keep even more people away from me, now that I think about it.  So technically I think I just found an inexpensive way to make sure people don’t get in my personal space in airports and I didn’t even have to use hot glue to seal a cat’s corpse to a pocketbook.

Life hacks, y’all.

How to make Facebook actually great again. For the first time. #IWOKEUPLIKETHIS

So I just heard Facebook is changing its algorithm again and I’m not sure what that means but if we’re judging from past changes it’ll just mean that it’ll suck more.  Which is sad because there’s a lot of great stuff on Facebook, but you often have to wade though a lot of bullshit before you see it and then you go from “Let’s see what’s going on on Facebook” to “THE INTERNET IS PISSING ME OFF AND THE WORLD IS TERRIBLE AND I’M GOING TO DELETE MY ACCOUN-wait.  Aw.  Look at that hamster eating a burrito!  Never mind.  I’ll be back tomorrow.  Maybe.”  And that’s why I think it would be nice if people could label their posts on Facebook so that you can decide what you do or don’t want to see for the day.  Maybe you want to just read happy stuff, or maybe you want something to yell about, or maybe you want to avoid crazy bullshit.  Labels and filters would solve this problem.

Some suggested categories for people to use to label their Facebook status updates so that other people know what they’re getting into:

  • This is what I had for lunch.
  • You know you want to see my cat right now.
  • I have a baby.  Look at it.
  • I wrote this when I was drunk.
  • This is the best thing I’ve written all week and I want you to look at it. (Can only be used once a week.)
  • I AM OUTRAGED ABOUT SOMETHING EVERYONE ELSE IS OUTRAGED ABOUT TOO.
  • I AM OUTRAGED ABOUT SOMETHING EVERYONE ELSE IS OUTRAGED ABOUT TOO BUT I FOUND A WAY TO MAKE IT ALL ABOUT ME EVEN THOUGH IT’S NOT AT ALL.
  • I AM OUTRAGED ABOUT SOMETHING AND IT’S ACTUALLY A LEGITIMATE THING YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE HEARD ABOUT ANYWHERE ELSE SO LOOK.
  • Read my blog.  I wrote an okay post.
  • Read my blog.  I wrote an awesome post.
  • Read my blog.  I wrote a boring-ass ad that I hated writing and I’m not going to tell you it’s an ad until the end even though it’s going to piss you off.
  • Contains racist/homophobic/hateful meme but you can’t unfriend me because we’re related and if you do I’ll call you a stuck-up bitch at the family reunion.
  • Contains blatantly wrong information that I should have googled first.
  • Angry about a satirical news item that I think is real.
  • Obligatory prayers to whatever crisis is going on because I feel helpless and it’s the only thing I can do.
  • Actual action items that can help whatever crisis is going on but will probably not make your newsfeed because I’m not as popular as other people you’re following who are just offering obligatory prayers.
  • I’m in a bad place.  Tell me it’s going to get better.
  • Videos of weird stuff.  Good weird though.
  • Videos of weird stuff.  Not good weird though.  Maybe call the police.
  • Videos that are too loud, start with profanity and are on autoplay so you can’t turn down your computer volume fast enough to not get fired.
  • I already know I’m pretty but tell me I’m pretty.  Do it again.  Never stop. This is my 18th selfie of the morning.
  • Picture of me with no make-up, hash tagged #Iwokeuplikethis even though it’s obvious I’ve got makeup on and did not wake up like this.
  • Picture of me with no make-up, hash tagged #Iwokeuplikethis where I look sort of scared because seriously, where am I? Who drew this penis on my forehead?  Frank?  Did you do this?  WTF FRANK?  THIS IS WHY NO ONE LIKES YOU.
  • I’m lonely.  Let’s talk.
  • Funny video of people getting hurt.
  • Not funny video of people getting hurt.
  • Video of sloth/hamster/ hedgehog in bathtub/raccoon being adorable.
  • Video of above, but recut so it’s way too long and you’re going to end up closing it in disgust because NO ONE HAS TIME FOR THIS.
  • Actually hysterical/wonderful/joyous news.
  • I don’t have anything to share but I don’t want you to forget I exist.
  • Bragging about something anyone could achieve if they had a large credit limit.
  • Bragging about something that required talent or hard work.
  • I’m very happy right this second and I want to share because it’ll make you happy too.
  • I can’t believe you dumped this sweet ass, Frank.  (Usually contains partial nudity or questionable life choices.)
  • Vague-booking something so subtly that everyone is confused and no one knows how to respond.
  • Vague-booking something so obvious that everyone reading wonders why I didn’t just name the person I’m dragging but I’m not naming them because I’m trying to be the mature one, Frank.
  • Contains hyperbolic meme that is so over the top even people who agree with my cause will be embarrassed for me.
  • Contains happy Jesus quote because I want people of all religions to be inspired.
  • Contains angry Jesus quote because YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID, FRANK.
  • Boobs.
  • Angry posts I’ll delete in an hour so you better read it now before I get threatened with a lawsuit.
  • Things I only post because my mom follows me.
  • Just trying to piss people off.
  • Facebook post about quitting Facebook even though I’m obviously not since I just posted about it on Facebook.
  • I don’t know how to turn off these auto-generated posts about my FarmVille account.
  • Memes that end with the phrase “SHARE THIS UNLESS YOU HATE JESUS/FREEDOM/AMERICA/BABIES.”

PS. I know it sounds like I’m judging, but I am not.  Mostly.  I do lots of the above on a very regular basis so please don’t write a think-piece about this yelling at me for censoring you.  Or if you do, label it appropriately on Facebook with “JENNY LAWSON IS BEING A REAL FUCKER AGAIN” so that I can keep track of all of them.  That’s all I ask.

PPS.  SHARE THIS UNLESS YOU HATE JESUS/FREEDOM/AMERICA/BABIES.

Kids today, right?

Things I wrote on my phone at 2am and then later found and read and wondered if maybe I need to cut back on my sleeping pills:

It’s weird that kids will walk for miles just to see a dead body in a ravine when they could just walk into a funeral home and look at a bunch of them without all those flies and lack of air conditioning. Kids, right?

Although maybe it’s because kids always want to poke a body with a stick and funeral directors won’t let a bunch of kids come in with sticks. That’s why I always bring a cane. A cane is a fancy stick and people assume you’re too sickly to be a threat, so when you get in trouble for poking all the dead bodies in the funeral home you can run away and funeral home people would be like “Whoa. Look at her go. That’s gotta be some kind of miracle. Maybe she was on to something with all this poking.” If I was a kid I’d bring a cane to poke bodies, but I guess the problem is that you have to share it with your friends because whose gonna believe an entire roving pack of kids who all have canes? That’s just unsettling. Although people might avoid looking at you out of pity. So maybe canes-for-everyone is a good idea if you’re poking bodies, or doing some light shoplifting. I haven’t really thought it through but this is exactly the kind of stuff I should bring up if they ever invite me to speak at an elementary school because those speakers almost never give good real-world advice.

PS. I’m leaving tomorrow to be part of the faculty (JESUS THAT’S SUCH A GROWN UP WORD) for the University of Dayton Erma Bombeck Writer’s Workshop and I’m speaking at the same time as a bunch of award winning famous people who probably don’t giggle when they refer to themselves as “faculty” so if you come to see me and it’s less than three of you I say we just go to the bar and get stupid.  Drinks are on me.  Unless there are 4 of you.  Then we go halfsies.  I’m not made of money, people.  Maybe BYOB?  Come prepared.

PPS. Spellcheck says “halfsies” isn’t a real word.  Really, spellcheck?  Because I think a member of “the faculty” would know what words are.  Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m proving me or spellcheck wrong here.

The happiest four words. The saddest four words.

Conversation with Victor at lunch:

Victor: I read something about a contest where you have to come up with the saddest story in just four words, and I think I’ve nailed it.

me:  Okay.  Hit me.

Victor:  “She loved someone else.”

me:  Ooh, that is a good one.  How about… She’d forgotten his smell”.

Victor:  Hmm.  “He never became himself.”

me:  “OUR DOG WAS EATEN.”

Victor:  Um…subtlety?

me:  “The baby spontaneously combusted.”

Victor:  Jesus, Jenny.

me:  Well you said it should be sad.

Victor: Okay, let’s switch to happy.  The happiest story in four words.  “He loved her back.”

me:  Okay.  “The monsters never returned.”

Victor: How about…“She became his world”.

me:  Ew.  No. That sounds like a stalker.  Oh!  “More gravy for everyone!”

Victor:  “They made a family.”

me:  Aw, I like that.  How about…Knock knock mother fucker.”

Victor: No.  Also, “motherfucker” is one word.

me:  Fine.  How about… “He never questioned her.”

Victor: How about…“She stopped acting stupid.”

me: How about…“Her divorce came through.”

Victor:  Hmm.  We should probably stop this.

me:  Yeah.  Agreed.

And they lived happily (ever after).

Your turn.  Happy or sad story in four words.  Go.

I’m sharing this with you because I love you.

Remember in September when I had to put a book trailer out, but instead of talking about the book I decided to do a video where I asked my friends to share their stories with the world?  And my niece, Gabi, composed and played the lovely tune for it?  Here.  I’ll show it to you again in case you forgot because it is amazing and it makes me smile and I love all of the people in it.

But here’s a story you never heard…

My publicist and close friend (Marlena) traveled with me for most of the tour and helped me when I got stuck in panic attacks or dark pits.  She and her husband (John) helped me through a lot of rough times when I felt overwhelmed and John was the person who edited and polished the Furiously Happy video above.  He took several minutes of each person flipping their signs and edited it into what it became.  What you may not know is that John made me an alternate video inspired by something that showed up on Patrick Rothfuss‘ video.

I watched it and laughed like mad and I wanted to share it but I was worried that people would think I was being irreverent and flippant, but I was just looking at it again and I realized that irreverent and flippant are exactly the things that I excel at so I thought, “Fuck it.  You guys know me enough to love this as much as I do, because in spite of the fact that the subject is serious, laughing at it makes it so much more manageable.”  I sent it to a few people on the video and they agreed it was fabulous.  And now I feel stupid for ever doubting you.

 

The answer to the question “Is blogging dead?”

I’ve been doing interviews for the book release and I’m never prepared for the questions in spite of the fact that the questions are mainly about me, but in my defense I find myself a bit tedious (that bitch is everywhere – it’s like she’s stalking me) so I’m not usually paying attention to what I’m doing.  But this week I’ve had several reporters all start with the question, “Is blogging dead?” and I’ve finally started answering with “Well if it is that makes me one hell of a necrophiliac because I’m still doing it WITH ZEST”.  But then I started wondering if when these articles come out they’re just going to say: “Jenny Lawson, total weirdo, recently came out as an ardent necrophiliac.  ‘I DO IT WITH ZEST’ she confessed in a recent interview.”  So that’s why I’m coming out right now to say that I am NOT a fan of necrophilia for myself or for anyone else.  That is my official statement.  The end.

Except I guess it’s not really the end because now that I’ve brought up the question of whether blogging is dead I’m probably expected to flesh it out.  Except that readers here know I never flesh anything out properly so I suppose I’m off the hook.  Which is exactly what blogging is all about.  It’s about writing whatever crazy shit you want to write and having some people say “YES!  I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE” and some say “What the shit is wrong with you?” and 99.99% of the world say nothing because they don’t know I exist.  And that is blogging.  And in that way it’s the same blogging that existed when I started blogging 9 years ago.  There are some changes, of course.  In the last 9 years some amazing bloggers have decided not to blog anymore.  And sometimes they come back and sometimes they don’t and sometimes they’re replaced by other amazing bloggers who write hysterical or moving or entertaining fluffy things.  And that’s a very good thing.

The only thing that’s dead is the possibility of making a million bucks on blogging, which honestly never existed as an attainable goal for any of us in the first place.  If you’re blogging to make a million dollars you should probably switch to something more lucrative, like…I dunno…making a sex tape.  But not with a dead person.  I’ve been very clear on this, y’all.

But here’s the great thing about realizing that making a mint in blogging isn’t really feasible or worthwhile…now you’re free to write whatever the shit you want to write without having to worry about brands and advertisers and alienating angry, easily-offended people who are actually really fun to alienate.  And that’s why we all got into writing in the first place, right?  Just me?  You know what?  It might be just be me.  And that’s fine because every single writer writes for their own specific reason.  Some of us write for a living.  Some of us write for fun.  Some of us write because we have no other choice because writers write always and if they aren’t blogging they’re writing a book or a journal or (if you’re anything like me) scrawling ideas of things you’re afraid you’ll forget on your arm until you can get home and jot it all down.  That is what writing is about, and blogging is just one iteration of writing.  Writing never dies.  And thank fucking God for that.

PS. I’m incredibly lucky in that this blog is sponsored almost entirely from the awesome people in my sidebar who support my writing.  They are fantastic and because of them I don’t have to inflate page views by creating annoying slideshows or unneeded page breaks or have to rent out my blog for other people’s voices or other bullshit I’m honestly far too irresponsible to do anyway.  If you appreciate this then go click on them and check them out.  They are fantastic and  interesting and lovely and proof that the question “Is blogging dead?” isn’t really a question worth asking.

PPS.  It would be nice if this question brought attention to great bloggers instead of making bloggers question what they’re doing so if you have a blogger that you love that you think needs attention, share them in the comments.  There’s always room for great voices.

PPPS.  I don’t have a good image for this post but this is my blog so I can post whatever picture I want.  So here’s a picture of my cat’s butthole:

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PPPPS.  Spellcheck is trying to tell me I can’t use the word “butthole” and that I should change it to “buttonhole”.  Fuck you, spellcheck.  This is exactly the kind of shit I don’t have to put up with.

PPPPPS.  Except I just remembered that my grandparents read this blog and so I’m including another picture of Hunter S. Thomcat with less genitals.  This is for you, granny and papaw.  Love you.

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An accidental competition for the worst mother ever.

The first week back to school always brings out the usual excitement, insecurities,  fear of failure and concerns about not fitting in.  I guess probably our children go through that as well but right now I’m talking about being the parent of a child heading back to school.  I have a group of friends who sporadically group text whenever things get weird and we need to vent, and the first week of school almost always sets us off so I thought I’d share.  Names have been redacted from this group text because CPS doesn’t always understand humor:

“Y’all.  I might be the worst mother ever. I bought a weeks worth of school clothes the night before school started.  I almost had a fistfight with another mom over the last pair of shorts at Target.”

“Oh, I can beat that.  All the stores were sold out of the “MANDATORY” red folders on the school supply list so I sent my kid with green folders and told him to tell his teacher that his mother is colorblind and very sensitive about it.”

“I forgot to pack a lunch for my kid so I brought her take-out tacos. There’s a mom at my kid’s school who makes home-made sushi in the shape of endangered animals for her kid’s lunch.   It’s like she’s making lunch at me.”

“I can top that.  I gave Hailey some burlap and told her to make her own damn shoes. She asked me for thread. I’m like, ‘THAT’S WHAT HAIR IS FOR, HAILEY.’ I mean, honestly.”

“I gave my kid a dead cat I found on the highway and punched him in the face.”

“I forgot school even started until I read these messages.”

“I just realized I forgot to pick my kids up from summer camp.”

“Jesus.  You guys make me glad I don’t have kids.”

“Sweetie, you do have kids.”

“Oh Shit.”

“Wow. You win.”