The internets keeps moving forward without me and I'm having none of it. I'm sitting on my porch (this blog) with a cup of tea under a caftan and yelling at you damn kids with your facebooks and widgets and RSS feeders to get off my lawn! I noticed today that there is some kind of "Followers" feature in blogger. I don't know what this is or how it works and I do not care to find out. I did look at my "Followers" and they all appear to be spam bots so I promptly blocked them, or rather, blocked about three then got tired and said F it. I drink decaf tea damnit.
Sometimes I wonder if I should join facebook and then I laugh and laugh and laugh. No one I know says that it actually enhances their social life. I don't need a place where I have to visit walls and tend to imaginary sheep or fight off mobsters and real ex boyfriends, that sounds absolutely awful. Still, I would like more ways to connect with people, but I like REAL connections, where I know the person actually exists and isn't just commenting on my most recent wall update or whatever so I'll go over to their wall and we'll all just have a big self congratulatory cluster F over how great we are. Ya. No.
As a matter of fact, Teresa Strasser, a writer I love whose blog you should visit and book you should read, has this great article on Social Networking which sums up what I've suspected all along.
The purpose of today's post was to tell you that I'VE LOST MY DAMN MIND and since the destruction of my worldy possessions this last March and starting a new more professional job I have gone on a shopping spree of epic proportions that I certainly cannot afford. There is no question that I needed new clothes, I just didn't need a purple satin wrap dress. Or the 7 dresses I just ordered online. One new pair of cute shoes would have sufficed, not THIRTEEN. I. Have. Lost. My. Damn. Mind. I need help. This has to stop. Having been poor my entire twenties I literally went years without buying clothes. I was well into my professional career, out of college, still squeezing into stuff I got when I was 16 at clothestime (shirts/blazers fit. Pants not so much. I had three total pair of professional pants that I found for under ten bucks each at Old Navy that I had to ask my Mom to buy for me because I can't stress this enough: NO MONEY. NONE. Name brand Top Ramen was a luxury).
Now, having a tiny bit of income, which actually should be going into an IRA and not into my closet, I can't control my new found obsessive shopping. I don't know if it is in response to having lived a famine for so many years or partially a salve for the breakup wound or what, but I have piles of new clothes and MORE COMING. I can't stop it. It's really bad. And the icing on the cake is that I found myself genuinely contemplating spending FIFTY DOLLARS on NAIL POLISH. Nail Polish. You heard me. And we aren't talking eighty bottles here either, we're talking like five bottles of name brand polish. My car isn't paid off. I owe 25K in student loans. I don't have a retirement account. I don't own my own home, I have no assets, my monthly medical expenses match my rent and I'm not Daddy Warbucks rolling in the dough and yet my brain says nail polish is a good idea. AUGH. HELP ME PEOPLE, you're my only hope.