I never thought I'd be doing one of those because for one, it'd be derivative, and second, I kind of figured she brought this on herself by writing all the batshit crazy shit she does.
I could not have been more wrong, apparently. There isn't much that can prepare a person for just having written a very thoughtful post in which they reference Foucault of all people and the next morning opening their Google Analytics account and getting treated to this:
Apparently I've been someone's 8th search result for the phrase "ive been sodomized", which is all kinds of worrisome, and a little unfair, too, given that I've used the word 'sodomized' exactly once. Once! That seems to be very little basis to suddenly be considered an expert. What about all the other words I've used? There certainly were a lot of them, many of them flowery and completely non-sexual. It's like the internet had an outstanding vacancy for a sodomy poster child that nobody was interested in, and now I'm quietly tricked into accepting the position because I'm the new girl, like being the one who has to go around the office getting people to pitch in for a birthday present for that one person nobody likes.
There have got to be people more knowledgeable about this topic than me. Or at least more experienced. I feel like I have nothing to offer to people who come to me with this statement, except maybe: "Ouch?", which is clearly unhelpful and doesn't begin to address the needs of their predicament.
Which brings me to person #1. I couldn't figure out at first if they were looking for advice or just enthusiastic, but Google tells me I was the 24th search result for this, which has to be all the way on the second page. People never venture over to the second page unless they are very, very desperate. Clearly this is a cry for help, and I have no valuable tips to give them. "Move to China" seems logistically challenging and possibly racist. Then again, the specific demarcation of the objects of this compulsion seems to be a bit racist in itself. Maybe try having a conversation with them, person #1. Find out what you have in common. Talk about your hopes and dreams and fears. Whatever you do, try not to mention this particular affliction of yours, unless you really can't fight the urge, in which case I suggest you just run for the nearest well-lit public area.
Shit, that would be insanely racist.
See, I'm no good at this. I clearly can't handle this responsibility. Thanks a lot, internet.
In other news, I just found out that Dave friggin' Eggers is coming to my tiny country and my tiny town1, to walking distance from my house in fact! I kind of feel like I've extorted this from the universe by mentioning him on my blog so many times (definitely more times than I've mentioned 'sodomized'), in an "if you build it, he will come"-kind of way. But apparently he's also coming to collect an Amnesty International award for his writing and "outstanding contribution to human rights", which is especially awesome because when the boyfriend and I were dating and were discussing our hopes and dreams and fears (as you do, person #1, when you want to get to know a person), I said to him that I wanted to be the first person in history to be awarded the Nobel prize for peace and literature at the same time, and he was all skeptical about that because that's just how he is, so naturally when I read this I ran upstairs to his man cave2 and yelled "See? It can be done!", and he quickly pointed out that "it isn't the Nobel prize", and of course it isn't, but it's a start isn't it? It's a start.
Now I have almost two months to figure out which of his books I would like to have signed, should it come to that. I haven't felt this fangirly since I casually stalked Placebo around Europe. (I'm sorry if you have been clicking all my links so far, because, yes, that goes to that very same post again. I guess I just put a lot of myself in that one post. See, I did it again. I'm sorry.)
So, to sum up:
- Internet: questionable
- Universe: awesome.
PS: That zombie post is really coming, I promise.