For *those that have just lost their keys *those that are well-versed *inebriated ones *wanderers *mermaids *those that belong elsewhere *whippersnappers *marvelous ones *those that are not included in this classification *those that flutter because the moment is fleeting *boundless ones *those colored with slippery fingerpaint *others *those that resemble someone I know from a distance

Monday, April 17, 2006

I think there might be something really wrong with my mind.

In case you didn't already know this, Myspace is addicting. As addicting as...I don't know, crack, smoking, self-hatred, or the Yeah Yeah Yeahs - pick your addiction. I decided last week to stop fighting it, to stop being ashamed of my Myspace addiction. Yes, I am on Myspace for at least an hour a day. Yes, my Myspace addiction interferes with my work and my relationship with others. Yes, I stalk ex-lovers and ex-lovers' ex-lovers on a regular basis. Yes, I get together with my friends for the specific purpose of getting drunk and taking pictures of ourselves to put on Myspace. Yes, I am in love with men I don't even know who live on the other side of the country, whose profiles I visit every day whilst yearning to meet them. Yes, I wake up in the middle of the night with new ideas of what to put on my profile. Yes, I am an addict. Yes, it is sick. But, I will no longer fight it. Myspace wins.

Interestingly, since I have accepted my Myspace addiction, I have come up with a new use for Myspace. Fortune-telling. There are a couple of variations of this, but I will tell you about my favorite. I ask a question and then I look at each one of my pictures on myspace, and try to imagine how that person would answer the question. What I am really asking, since each picture is of me, is what that version of Wendy is like. (Yes, I do have some narcissistic tendencies). It all started when I was debating whether or not to get a tattoo. I looked at each of my pictures, pretending that I didn't know that person (i.e. me), and tried to guess if she (i.e. me) had that tattoo or not. In ten of the pictures, that person (i.e. me) did not have the tattoo; in two of them, she did. So, no new tattoo for me.

Now I am trying to use Myspace to figure out what to do with my life. I have been looking at each of my pictures and trying to guess what her (i.e. my) occupation is. This is what I have come up with so far:

1. Social worker
2. Boring office job with artistic hobbies
3. Aimless writer with disappearing tendencies
4. Graphic designer
5. ? with artistic hobbies
6. Nurse/medical assistant
7. Elementary school teacher
8. Mystic/writer
9. Something visual/design-y
10. Something sexual
11. Teacher
12. Something with people

Now, if only there were a way to add this up and divide by 12 to get the average. I guess it comes out to helping/teaching people with a side of creativity, some extra ennui, a sprinkle of mysticism, and a dash of sexuality. Is there a job out there comprised of these things? Does it pay well? I think I might be good at it. Can I take this list to a career counselor and find out what I should do with the rest of my life?

Is it really really really odd that I not only used Myspace in this manner, but then wrote a blog about it? Do I need professional help? Is the internet taking over my life, changing the way we relate to one another, and causing us to lose touch with reality? Do I think too much? Am I too self-involved? Am I too smart for my own good? What should I do with the rest of my life? Was I too isolated as a child to ever have normal relationships as an adult? Should I walk away from my life and join a Buddhist monastery, spending my days meditating and marking the changing of the seasons? What the hell am I doing? How come I can't ask the right question? Or does it have to do with being receptive to the answer?

Fuck it. I'm going to smoke.

Labels: , ,


Post a Comment

<< Home