Wait, What?

Question: What’s the meaning behind your Tumblr name and what made you choose it?

Mine is from the mangling of the popular phrase “scapegoat”, plus I’m a Goat (Capricorn).

1) I’m an extremely moody person. I go through periods of withdrawal where I don’t want to talk to anyone, don’t want to be around anyone, just want be left alone. The problem with this is that it leaves people feeling hurt or dismissed. If I’ve ever seen your number in my phone and I ignored your call, it’s nothing you’ve done (I don’t give my number to anyone that I don’t want to talk to), it’s just that I’m not in the mood to talk at that moment. Please, don’t ever take it personally.

2) I am an extremely private person. I don’t tell everyone my problems. It’s not necessarily because of trust, it’s just that I only talk about my issues when I’m at the end of my rope. My theory, I guess, is that I don’t see the point in talking about my issues if I’m the only person who can fix them. My theory isn’t rational, but that’s just what I do.
Another reason I keep my issues to myself is that I’m so used to being the person that everyone comes to with THEIR problems, that I almost feel like I’m complaining when I talk about mine.

3) I’m a very sensitve person, which is probably another reason I keep things to myself. I’ve opened up to people about being clinically depressed, and hearing things like “depression is all in the mind (I’ve actually heard this. No shit, Sherlock)”, “just cheer up”, and “shake it off” makes my blood boil. Would you tell a schizophrenic that the voices in their head are just “in their mind” and that they should just “shake them off”? Would you tell a drug addict to just “cheer up and those yearnings for crack will go away”? Oh, you would? Well, you suck. When people make idiotic comments about depression or mental health issues in general, I want to slam their heads into a brick wall. There’s too much information out there about mental health for you to be so willfully ignorant.

Anyway, I don’t know why I numbered those. I guess I was listing things you should know. Or maybe those are things I’m just realizing about myself. I dunno.

You ever get so nostalgic that it hurts? I’ve had dreams about the past that were so vivid that I would wake up really thinking that I was still there. I still dream about the house I lived in from ‘89 to ‘98. I dunno what it is about the 90s that still haunts my dreams. It’s not because my life was particularly great at the time; I think it has to do with how much simpler things were then. I didn’t know what the Internet was (we didn’t have a computer til ‘97), the constant fear of war and terrorism didn’t exist for me, I didn’t have any responsibilities and everything just seemed BETTER. I sit here and just wish that I could go back to that, just for a moment, to a time before I knew what depression was, a time when I didn’t know what it meant to be broke or struggle, a time when being an adult seemed like something waayyyy in the distant future. I really need to go back to that. Even for just one day.

According to Twitter, women MUST:

-Be willing to engage in ANY sexual activity at any time (after all, “What you won’t do, another woman will!”~Hoodrat proverb)

-Be smart, but not too smart

-Be ambitious, but keep them ambitions to yourself, dammit

-Be funny, but not too funny

-Be good in bed, but not too good or else he’ll think you’re a ho

-Know how to be a gourmet chef

-Be independent and dependent all at the same time

Oh.

According to Twitter, men must NEVER:

-Show emotion. Unless someone dies. Or your kid is born. Cuz tears are for bitches. Yea.

-Turn down sex. Cuz using discretion is like, gay.

-Use the following: umbrellas, straws, chapstick, lotion, hair conditioner, loofahs, forks and knives…

-Accept the following from women: money, help, backtalk, a kidney.

-Forget to “Pause” yourself when: saying something mildly homoerotic, eating a hotdog, purchasing a pink shirt, changing your son’s diaper.

Did I forget anything?

This post will count as my 100,000th tweet. I can’t believe that I’ve tweeted so much. It’s amazing how much one can convey in 140 characters. I joined Twitter on June 3rd, 2009, and I STILL can’t explain Twitter. I can’t explain the significance of a hashtag, or how Twitter isn’t just some narcissistic site designed for people who assume that their every move is oh-so relevant. It’ll take several paragraphs to explain what a subtweet is, who belongs to “Black Twitter”, who or what #TheCult is, or the story behind ¥€. No one will understand how you feel connected to people that you’ve never met or spoken to in person, why it is that one day being off Twitter feels like a whole week, the fun of livetweeting, or even where the gay shit really went.
Maybe it isn’t meant to be explained. Maybe it’s one of those “you had to be there” kind of things. Yea, it must be that. You’d have to log on to figure out exactly why I laugh whenever I see Lil Mo, to figure out who #YoungStruggleFace is or why you wouldn’t want #ThatPlate for dinner.
Don’t get me wrong. Twitter can be extremely frustrating. Between subtweets, “Twitter popularity” and anonymous profiles, sometimes you have to log off. It DOES get tiring when people beat jokes to death, jump into conversations without having read your timeline for context, excuse every ignorant comment with “It’s just Twitter” or attempt to “roast” people for disagreeing with them. Does that outweigh the good? Not at all. For me, Twitter is like a group of very different, very opinionated and interesting people who are having a mass conversation. You may like these people, you may not. But you’ll rarely be bored.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I appreciate Twitter, for better or for worse, Fail Whale and all.
#OkBye

I have a bad habit of:

-Walking with my left hand in my pocket.

-Changing things people say into song lyrics.

-Walking outside in thunderstorms

-Correcting people’s grammar in my head as they speak

-Not smiling often enough

-Popping my gum

(Written while walking in the rain and unshoveled snow)

I have things I want to accomplish this year, but I don’t want them confused with resolutions. The reason 2011 is such a huge year for me is because I turned 25 8 days ago. 25 is a milestone age. I’m a quarter of a century. George Harrison wrote “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” when he was 25. Michael Jackson released “Thriller” when he was 25. Jimi Hendrix recorded “Purple Haze” when he was 25. It’s a pretty big deal.
I’ve been through a lot in the past couple of years. I’ve been in and out of school, battled clinical depression (still battling it), made money, struggled, etc. I’ve grown a lot, learned to let things go, confronted other things, and cut toxic folks out of my life.
I don’t have any concrete plans, no drastic weight loss goals, no resolutions that’ll be broken by March. All I want is to be a happier, stronger, more confident, more ambitious young woman. Not just for myself, but for those around me. I have a few folks that support me and the best way for me to repay them is to take what they’ve given me and actually learn from it.
And if I don’t accomplish these things this year, 2012 will be MY YEAR!!!

Bye.