Non-Anonymous
Listen up, Fanlings and Fatlurkers, the Fatling has been outed! The Fatling has mixed feelings on this development, but isn’t terribly concerned, since no one’s reading this blog anyway. Point being, a friend’s foolish decision to link up all of her social networking tools revealed my Fatdentity to the rest of the known non-Fativerse.
I sometimes wonder if my desire for anonymity is just a misplaced desire to dissociate from my real self, or simply a way to avoid conflict that might stem from expressing one of my trademark Crazy Ideas. Or both, or neither, or some of the above combined with other stuff, too. I have no idea, since I refused to take Psych 101 in college, because in a delicious bit of irony, my hypochondria would have spiraled out of control, landing me in the loony bin. No doubt.
Still, I’ve managed to pull myself up to 13 followers on this thing, using only my bootstraps, but I guess that doesn’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. I do keep meaning to write actual posts of substance on a variety of topics, but I’ve been quite busy, out and about, and my rigid diet of Diet Coke, jelly beans and blue corn sesame tortilla chips doesn’t seem to do me any favors as far as preventing fatigue goes.
When the Fatling falls off the wagon, she falls off the wagon all the way.
At Her Fatness’ Request
Okay, Fanlings and FanLurkers. Her Fatness has been getting on my case all freaking day, like, “Why don’t you have a Facebook follow like the Frenemy? Why aren’t you on Facebook like the Frenemy? How come you’re not the Frenemy?” Look, Your Fatness, I would LOVE to be the Frenemy and have thousands of followers and chi-chi internet interviews and the rest of my twenties ahead of me.
But I’m not. I’m an embittered person, embarking on her second stab at being 27, slowly drowning in the knowledge that I’m simply not plugged into social networking enough to ever be successful or even be the subject of “Love It or Shove It” in Bitch Magazine. I’m old, Petah. Evah sew much moh than twenty. Incidentally, when I was looking up that quote, I discovered a 1917 film called The Fable of the Girl Who Took Notes and Got Wise and Then Fell Down. I believe I would like that to be the title of my autobiography.
Except I won’t have an autobiography, because what would it say? “The Fatling was a mysterious creature who emerged in the early tens or teens or whatever posterity decides to call this nascent decade. The Fatling loved pie and getting angry about lady things, but little else is known about the Fatling due to her well-documented ineptitude with what was then known as social networking, now known by its more popular name, breathing.”
Gah. So anyway, I will probably acquiesce to Her Fatness’ request, if only because she is my number one fan and supporter and I want to prove to her that having a Facebook page for this blog will have no impact on my readership. I mean, I thought the whole point of Tumblr was that we didn’t NEED Facebook for this, that people are just supposed to join Tumblr and reblog things and LOL and heart things and we’d be all alone, without the Fascist character restrictions of Twitter and Facebook. My god, I hate the internet. I will alert the Fativerse to the establishment of my marked-for-failure Facebook page.
In other news, I made a really excellent lemon meringue pie this weekend. It was tangy and sweet and delicious and I ate two pieces. I meant to take a photo of it, because it was really pretty, but I was hungry and lazy, so you’ll just have to use your imagination. I also drank several gallons of Miller Lite, which is probably why I topped out at a loss of 7 pounds for the month of January, but I have no regrets! None! Vive le pie!
