Two weeks ago I gave up social media for seven whole days (here’s the link). Well, sort of. To be honest, I checked my stats on WordPress (this blog) for the first two days of my social media fast. I also waited to delete all of the social media apps from my smartphone until day two. So, while I didn’t know what my Facebook notifications were, I knew I was still getting them – for the first two days, at least. Other than that, though, I didn’t check Facebook, or Twitter, or Instagram, or OkCupid, or my blog.
Here is what I discovered:
Not checking Facebook on my phone every other minute is great.
I felt antsy for the first few days, but after that I barely thought about it. I thought that maybe the terrible boredom and lack of attention I would inevitably feel during that week might force me into some amazing sort of adventure, like talking to a girl in a bar, or Trader Joe’s, or something. It didn’t. Apparently the same affliction that drives me to obsessively check Facebook also ramps up my anxiety in ‘actual’ social situations. Continue reading
There’s something wrong.
I find myself all too often feeling dejected after checking my Facebook and finding it devoid of any new notifications. No new ‘likes’ or mentions, no comments on my posts or comments on the comments I’ve commented on. Or liked. How many Facebook messages arrived in the hours between leaving home for a walk and my return from the grocery store? Zero.
Sure, there’s that old friend request from my father’s second cousin out in South Dakota, but that only makes it worse. No one’s left any real evidence, in the last since-I-checked-facebook-last, that I’ve occupied even the most casual of their thoughts (‘click’). Nobody did anything to let me know I’m funny, or smart, or cute, or envied. No one even sent a digital ‘poke’ while I sat on my inflatable mattress, watched Mad Men, made a cucumber salad, read part of a book, and randomly checked my phone to see if notifications had arrived.
This makes me feel dejected. Continue reading
I have to poop but I don’t know where the bathroom is and I don’t wanna ask – at Caffe Vita.
Today is an adventure. Life is an adventure. Here we are, explorers from another dimension, looking for suitable places to go to the bathroom. I left the house in Lower Queen Anne and hiked through the retail section of downtown, then off and up to Capitol Hill today. The weather here in Seattle is perfect right now; 74 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. There are humans out in full force, walking and running and sitting and laying. It’s nice to live in a city where the people get out of their cars and use the sidewalks.
I’ve been making the creepy eyes at hipster chicks lately, but to no avail. My intention is to look aloof, but interested, but not creepy – all at the same time. I think I’d be less creepy if I just used the “I would have sex with you in that doorway, that alleyway, or that bus stop enclosure – right now” look. It’s more honest at least. Continue reading
Greetings from Memphis, Tennessee. I’m here burning money on food and drink, stalling before I go out West. In typical fashion I have downgraded all my amazing adventure plans and now the biggest feat I see upon my immediate horizon is somehow waking up in time to get to the Memphis airport by six O’clock Sunday morning. As obviously challenging as that sounds, it still isn’t even exciting because I am enough of a grown-up by now to believe that I am capable of waking up before the sun rises when 160 dollars and a one-way trip to Seattle is on the line.
Since there really are no other things to do other than wake up eventually, I am forced to create arbitrary tasks for myself, like trying to sleep with my sister’s friends, or meet as many girls on the internet that don’t care (or notice) that I am leaving town in, like, four days. I plan to take a long walk through Memphis looking for used condoms, needles, and antebellum Southern architecture in the near future, though. The houses and occasional filth of Memphis really are quite grand. Continue reading
Welcome back to another update, reading folk.
I’m sitting in Martin, TN at my parent’s house, listening to my niece eat cereal with her Dada (my dad) wondering why I’m not better with children. Probably because I insist on sticking my face in technology more than my little niece insists on watching Yoyo Gabba.
In the last week I finally vanquished my foe; possessions. That, of course, is a flat out lie. I did give away 80% of my books, and another 25% of my clothes. I threw away my last nice sheet and left my Calvin Klein pillow behind in Tampa. However I’m still typing this on my laptop, and I’m still checking dating websites and Facebook and emails on my iPhone. I still have five pairs of shoes, four of which are the exact same shoe in different color combinations. I still have something like 15 pairs of sweet ass J Crew socks, too. I did part with my Xbox, my very last set of tools, and all of my DVDs (they were good ones too, like Fargo and The Best of Chris Farley). I now own exactly what I can bring on an airplane in two checked bags and two carry on bags, plus one solitary box of books I mailed ahead of myself to Washington.
What I’m trying to say is that while I have, at the age of 33, succeeded in unfettering myself from a vast majority of my physical possessions, I have by no means cured myself of this human disease called materialism. Continue reading
I had a realization last night around 4am while I drunkenly walked to Taco Bus for some late night pollo verde tacos; I have only been sharing the most glamorous aspects of my life in this blog. Well, it’s time to right the ship.
One of my goals before I jettison myself from Tampa for good is to eat Taco Bus at least once a day until April 16. Well, it was a goal. My bowels are sending me strong signals that while this goal may be attainable with a lot of perseverance, it is something better left unattained. I have been walking there from my house in the ghetto late, late at night for hangover medicine, though. They are usually open 24 hours, which is their major draw (and draw back). When do they clean things if they never close? I’ll never know, but my bowels have a theory… Continue reading
Welcome back my literate friends. Since I first posted last week I have succeeded in giving away a good deal of my possessions. I donated most of them to charity (how awesome am I?) because I loathe physical labor and refused to drag anything down the stairs of my old apartment (how lazy am I?). Here’s what I liberated myself from:
Queen sized mattress
1/4 of my clothes
Bedroom set (nightstand, coffee table, entertainment center)
Two really soft sets of sheets
My glorious espresso machine and the glorious bean grinder beside it
Silverware, coffee cups, bowls, pots, pans, an expensive knife set
My laser jet printer
My 32” flat screen television
My Lego Millennium Falcon
Other nicks and knacks