Category Archives: Post that people who don’t twitter won’t get

Bravery by any other name.

Last week I posted a video of me face-planting into the water.  I thought I’d dip my toe in but then I realized how cold it was so I tried to back out but the water was not cooperating because it was all “I’m a not solid, idiot.  You can’t push off of me” and I was like “JESUS LIED TO ME”.   (Turns out I just wasn’t reading that part of the Bible well enough and I guess only Moses and Jesus could keep from falling into pools.)

Hailey recorded my ridiculous plunge and insisted I share the video online, and since she’s always letting me post pictures of her it seemed only fair.

I tried to embed it here but it doesn’t work so you have watch it here.  Or here’s a series of stills if you can’t watch videos of children laughing at their parents:

faceplant

But what was weird was that someone called me “brave” for posting a video of me in a bathing suit.  First I thought they were just trying to insult me but then I realized that they weren’t.  I asked twitter, “Did we change the word ‘brave’ when I wasn’t looking?  ‘Brave’ is for saving orphans from a burning building made of bees.  Wearing a bathing suit to swim is ‘normal’.

Most of twitter agreed.  My friend Popehat added, “Honestly I think it was questionable judgement to house the orphans in the bee building in the first place.”

Other’s disagreed.  Like Justin Gibbs who countered, “Please use more realistic metaphors.  Everyone knows buildings made with bees are fire resistant.”

And then I went on to talk about diseased popsicles (later renamed Poxiclespatent pending) but later I was dragged back into the conversation by a few women who pointed out that to some, posting a video of themselves in a bathing suit would be much less frightening than running into a burning bee building.  This sounds a bit insane.

But they were absolutely right.

We all have weird fears.  Some of them are universal.  Some of them are odd.  All of them are valid as emotions even if they are irrational.  I don’t have a problem with a video of me in a bathing suit because I’m old enough to not care anymore…but I have an anxiety disorder sometimes makes me terrified to leave the house.  It’s completely irrational, but it’s me.  But sometimes the thing that gets me out of the house is seeing how easily everyone else does it.  They leave their room.  They talk to people.  They come home.  No one laughs at them.  They don’t think what they do is brave, but to me it’s inspiring.

So maybe that’s the way it is for some women in bathing suits.  I could tut-tut at them but being afraid of having your flaws exposed isn’t nearly as crazy as being afraid you might have to make small talk with the mailman, so I think we’re probably even.  We’re all a little crazy.  We’re all irrationally afraid of something.  We all project our own fears onto others sometimes.

So I’ll keep wearing my bathing suit if you keep leaving the house.  And maybe with time you’ll realize that posting an awkward faceplant into the water while your child video-tapes it and laughs hysterically at you is way more embarrassing than being an imperfect woman wearing appropriate swimming attire.  And maybe in time I’ll realize that strangers aren’t going to eat me, and that leaving the house is fun and good for me even when every molecule in my body screams otherwise.

Let’s go outside.  And talk to the mailman.  In our bathing suits.  And set bees on fire so we can rescue orphans from them.  Pick one.

We can work up to the scary ones together.

In twitter, much like life, there is no rhyme or reason

I’ve never noticed it before, but apparently now you can look at your Twitter Activity Dashboard to see which of your tweets are actually being seen.  I could already guess which of mine would be the highest ranked this year because I can see which ones get retweeted or favorited, but I thought I’d check to see if I was right.

According to twitter analytics, in the last 28 days I’ve had a few million impressions (Impressions = # of times people saw tweets).  That seems like a lot but I’ve written a ton, adopted a new member of the family, captured a possible ghost phantom on camera, joined Instagram, and live-tweeted an unexpected visit to a ghost-town where we were escorted by a bossy emu and several llamas.

I expected that my highest ranked tweet would be the ones I wrote during a particularly terrible night, because they were retweeted and favorited the most:

“90% of the people I know right now are falling apart physically or mentally this week. Be kind. To others and yourself.”

“You’ll get through this. I promise.”

Surprisingly, the actual tweet which blew everything else out of the water (according the analytics) was apparently much more important….

enchilda on plane

Conclusion:  Twitter is just as baffling as Facebook now.  Also, enchiladas are more dangerous than expected.  And now I’m hungry for enchiladas.  Thanks, twitter.

PS.  Seriously, does anyone understand the actual algorithms for Facebook and twitter regarding which updates actually get seen?  Why do I never see some of my friends updates but see others constantly?  Why do I see things on my timeline days after they’ve been shared?  Is it witchcraft?  Because it feels like witchcraft.

And then this piece of fried gold happened because I’m the luckiest person ever

Remember last month when I was in Hollywood for some reason?  Well, this was the reason.  It’s a special gift just for you.

A few weeks ago I shared the book trailer that Penguin came up with for me.  This week I’m sharing the book trailer I came up with for you guys.  It’s insane and I can’t stop giggling at it.

Also, I want to lick every single person in this video because they are all terrific sports and are more awesome than enchiladas.

Here’s the link if you can’t see it.

PS.  You can order the book and check out tour dates by clicking here.  Thanks so much to every single one of you for being so supportive and amazing over the last ten years of writing this book.  I can’t believe it comes out in just a couple of weeks.  Insane.

PPS.  A special thank you to Soleil, Mary Lynn, Amanda, Neil, Felicia, Jeri, Bigfoot and Wil.  You are the stuff that dreams are made of.

An open letter to lots of people I’ve accidentally offended

You know when you’re on twitter and someone sends you a DM about zombie gnomes, and then the next day you DM them back, saying: “That’s fucking hysterical. You made my whole morning!”

And then you go to their actual public twitter stream and it’s all: “Thank you so much for all of your kind words and DM’s”, and you realize that ten minutes ago they posted that their beloved grandma just died unexpectedly?

Yeah. I am so sorry about that.

Well, that’s not flattering.

I’ve been a bit MIA this week, but today I logged onto the computer to find that my klout score is quite strong, and that I’ve become very influential…in the field of Satan.  Frankly, I didn’t even know that was an option.  It’s like finding out that I’m an accidental prodigy, and also that I’ve somehow lost my soul along the way.  I’m like the social media version of Faust.

PS.  A friend just pointed out that if you google “douche canoe”, my picture shows up in the image gallery 20 times.

This is almost exactly what I expected fame would feel like.

Honestly, it’s sort of hard to argue with any of these.

Several people sent me links to this new site that analyzes your past tweets and comes up with what your next tweet will probably be according to your personality and past habits.  I assume the average person gets stuff like “I need coffee” and “Good morning everyone!”  Not me.

Things that “Yes, That Can Be My Next Tweet” predicts I will say in the near future:

“Quick.  Someone get me a replacement cobra.”

“MOTHERFUCKER.  Ha!”

“My alligator is worsening.  I need an 11 cent payment for a cave.”

“Here.”

“I never thought I’d like a firey crash so much.”

“No, that taxidermied pig dressed as my special lady is not leaving me.”

“I’m ready to hate me now.”

“I NEVER WORE THAT, VICTOR.  So stabby.”

“I need two perky young priests and three squirrels.  After insurance.”

“There is that shoe again.  I’m worried.  Where’s the bucket?”

“Okay, three words: It’s like, FUCK YOU! YOU’VE CHANGED.”

“I have captained space ships.  Also, this entire day just came out five hours later.  I blame the future.”

“Home from Jesus’ death?”

“I don’t know who owns this own crossbow. Right now we’re cool. ~ But HALF A BLOWJOB?”

“I just made an arm.”

“Home from something stupid.”

“Victor: Why do Pickles look they hate me.”

“Also, Victor’s broken arm casts now endorse unicycling.”

And my personal favorites:

It’s a valid question.