Impatiently Waiting For What's Next

Or, just trying to like this little life carry on.

If you need a reminder on what this is and why I’m directing you to it from my Instagram story, you can click right → here. Tbh this is very disjointed and stream of consciousness-style. Pretend we’re at brunch and I’m saying all of these things while gesturing wildly with a full Aperol Spritz and whispering secrets that are not included here ok ily bye. 🫶

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1. You probably don’t actually want to go viral, tbqh.
   
   I think about the internet a lot. Like…a whole lot. Like I will never show you my screen time a lot.
   
   The internet is a tool that has driven the bulk (if not all) of my career as an adult. I’m constantly utilizing it as a way to foster and continue connections that I would otherwise have limited if not zero access to. Then at the same time I think we’ve all witnessed how it gives people immense levels of power they do not deserve. It’s wildly misused and has amplified media illiteracy to a degree that just might kill us all—no exaggeration!
   
   One of the things lately that I’ve been commiserating on when I fall down yet another “Dear God The Internet Has And Always Will Be The Snake Eating Itself Metaphor™” rabbit hole is how going viral is truly a double edged sword. And how with a platform like TikTok prioritizing an 1) un-curated 2) accessible 3) everyman approach to video creation and consumption, it is even easier than it was during the personal essay boom of the mid 2010s to get hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of eyes on even your most benign possible thought. Truly anyone can go viral these days. Look at Reesa Teesa. Or Jess and her “aggressive tutorials”. Or anyone who walks away from a vacation with a gripe with AirBnb.
   
   I…don’t know that this is a good thing. I don’t think most people are prepared for the realities that come with having thousands and thousands of strangers forming an opinion on something they have to say. I also (and I say this as someone with an opinion on literally anything, I could form a TedTalk on a my preferred tissue brand) don’t know that we deserve to have the validation of thinking our every thought is *worth* having thousands and thousands of people hearing it. Maybe sometimes the tree should just fall in the forest even if no one is there, or whatever.
   
   I legitimately am starting to believe you should have to submit an IQ test, a mental health check, and maybe even provide an emergency contact in order to hit “post” on something online in 2024. Inevitably when you get a shred of traction on the internet you will be hit with a handful of things. First is, of course, the dopamine rush. You’re human! Of course it feels weirdly good and exciting to get a bunch of attention. But then you’re going to get hit with the contrarians, and they’re going to be Very Loud™. That is really hard to handle and will give you mental whiplash. You’re also going to get an astronomical amount of the same thought(s) (which are never that groundbreaking) thrown at you over, and over, and over again. You’re going to feel an overwhelming need to clarify, defend, and over-explain yourself. You’re also going to reach the conclusion that that is a fruitless endeavor, but that will never quell the impulse. Then people will probably ask you for your very unqualified advice, sometimes publicly but other times privately, which is oddly guilt inducing. Hopefully you don’t also get hard or soft doxxed during all of this. And you’re not going to know exactly how to interact with all of this happening altogether because it *is* a lot! No one sane would expect you to navigate everyone at a dinner party screaming at you all at once because you offered up a take on the side dishes— but the internet doesn’t particularly have, well, manners and it wants what it wants right now, dammit!
   
   As someone who has gone viral in virtually every digital medium possible, I feel oddly qualified to speak on this. Positively, negatively, in written form, in video form, on politics, on my relationships, on sexuality, on Melania Trump, on being cheated on, on how to not suck on a first date, on birth orders, on horror movies, on memes, on influencers, on Taylor Alison Swift—I have gone viral. And yes—I recognize the multi-tiered cake levels of irony to this entire thread of thought I promise it is not lost on me.
   
   I think about the internet a lot and I think about *how we* interact with it potentially even more. I think it can be scarily easy to lose your humanity online. And in losing that humanity, it really decreases your ability to think and consume media critically and thoughtfully which brings me right back to the mouth of the snake eyeing its own tail and the cycle starts all over again.
   
   Every client, influencer, conglomerate, or brand I have ever worked with has talked about the notion of “going viral” and I always want to be like, “Hehehe should we talk about taking on the Swifties because it is not all it is cracked up to be let me tell ya!” Going viral is often DEEPLY annoying, and rarely has the ROI you think it will. Mostly what you will get are variations exact same comment for days, weeks, or maybe even months and then an inevitable a case of the post-Viral Blues. And then because of the latter, you’ll be tempted to chase that high over, and over again.
   
   This is, in my professional but also just Correct™ opinion, potentially the worst way you could exist online. Frankly the only way to exist online without losing your fucking mind is by doing what I’m calling “simply floating.”
   
   Imagine the internet is the ocean and you’re out in it hovering on a surfboard while the waves come in and out. Sure, sometimes a massive swell will reach you and you will catch it at exactly the right time to ride it and it will be wild and exhilarating and a high that you’re tempted to continue to chase. But most of the time you’re just going to float. You observe what’s around you. You let things crest and fall. You let the ocean do its thing—you’re simply along for the ride. Aka: You simply float.
   
   Maintaining your cool and letting yourself just go with the figurative flow when you’re in a viral internet surge is admittedly easier said than done. It’s incredibly hard to not be consumed by the constant urge to check your phone, to see what people are saying, to want to insert yourself into the convo, to wonder if your 15 minutes of internet fame are up or what it even means to begin with. Which why I stand by what I said at the top of this lil’ rant: You probably don’t want to go viral, if you really think about it.
   
   And if you do end up going viral, I guarantee you’ll understand why people talk about going off the grid after dealing with it for 72 hours. If you disagree with me, report back after your first time taking on a fandom and I promise to let you complain for a whole 5 minutes before saying, “I told you so.”
   

2. Just a list of the absolute worst songs to get stuck in your head.
   
   For whatever reason whenever I get a song stuck in my head it is never like, “Daddy Lessons” or Adele or something from Joanne. It is almost always an old church hymn or only the chorus of a pop song I don’t really like all that much. There are a lot of reasons why people experience “earworms”, "(that’s what they call them! really!) but I am absolutely in the camp that find them deeply, deeply annoying. Especially when it’s some variation of some diddy a pastor used to belt in my direction far too early on Sunday mornings.
   
   The following is an ongoing list of songs that I consider to be some of the worst to get stuck in your head. If this unfortunately triggers one to play on repeat in your brain, my bad.
   
   - “Our God is an Awesome God”
   - “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God Almighty”
   - “Mary Did You Know?”
   - Just Jane Seymour’s part in “Ex-Wives” from Six
   - The la la laaaaa section of “Popular” from Wicked
   - Anything Veggie Tales
   - That “bang bang gorilla” song by Bruno Mars
   - That liquor talk song by Morgan Wallen
   - Anything from the Cars franchise
   - “Jesus Freak” by DC Talk
   - “My Grown Up Christmas List” (unless it’s the Kelly version. that’s fine.)
   - Anything other than “Never Enough” from The Greatest Showman
   - The cup song from Pitch Perfect
   

3. The catharsis of keeping up with your chores.
   
   My mornings for the last two months have fallen into the quietest, most domestic little routine. I get up, slip on my Strawberry Comfy and my happy face slips, and do my skincare routine while my dog continues to sleep on the bed. I get back in bed and do Connections, The Mini, and Moviegrid in that order—I know it’s gonna be a good day if I get The Mini in under 30 seconds. I read a few pages of my book, I scroll through TikToks, I answer DMs for clients and take stock of my email and G-Cal, and eventually after about a clean 90 (that’s an hour and a half for anyone who isn’t familiar with the time of a perfect easy watch movie) I get up and out of bed to try and motivate my dog to do the same.
   
   I make my way to the kitchen and either unload the dishwasher or reload it and start it. I wipe down all of the counters and debate whether or not the recycling is full enough to take it to the bin. I change out the water for the flowers on the counter. I put away my bags if I’ve left them out and contemplate whether or not I should do a load of laundry. Eventually my dog joins me and I let her out before getting breakfast ready—dog breakfast, that is—before starting to go all in on the workday while the news plays softly behind me and I’m surrounded by the scents of soap, Lysol, and salmon oil (again for the dog).
   
   Tuesdays are trash days so I make a point to quickly clean out the fridge before the truck rumbles down the street. Every Thursday I check if the plants need to be watered. I used Dawn PowerWash on the sink multiple times per day, I wash the Scrub Daddy in the washer at least once a week. I’m still not totally on top of vacuuming but no one is perfect.
   
   I’ve never really been a person who relished in doing chores. I’ve never related to “wanting to clean.” I want to do a lot of things like read, be horizontal, google weird fish, and talk shit. I don’t really ever *want* to clean. I have to bribe myself to shower to be totally honest.
   
   And even so, I would be lying if I said that I can literally feel my anxieties lowering whenever I push myself into some semblance of a routine. As much as I hate to admit it, there is something to be said for going to bed with a clean kitchen (almost) every night. There is a catharsis to doing your chores, as an adult. The catharsis being the metaphorical gold star on the star chart that no longer hangs on the fridge. It’s there for taking care of what is yours and making a point to do something that will help future you feel a little more grounded.
   
   Listen, I was raised by a parent with a hoarding problem (another story for another day) and am a chronic offender of what I call the “Hansel and Gretel” upon arrival ie: I will leave a breadcrumb trail of items behind me leading to where I inevitably flopped down. I am never going to be a person posting Sunday resets, bragging about clean sheets, or talking ad nauseam about the life-changing magic of my cordless vacuum. However there is something to be said for putting together a little routine that makes you, your space, and the ripples of both feel slightly more put together.
   
   There is…an insane amount of chaos in the world. I sometimes feel like Nell Crane in Hill House—everything is too loud. But my quiet (for lack of a better word) little mornings help, even minutely, me feel a little more at peace. I think we could all use that, here and there.
   
   But who the fuck knows. Maybe I am just full of shit and in another two months I’ll be bragging about spontaneity and how I’ve discovered the solution to depression is living out of a compost pile. TBD.
   

4. A small recipe for a Very Good Fridge Staple™.
   
   Something to be aware of about me is that I fucking love eggs. Love them. A near perfect food, in my oh-so-humble opinion!

   

   a poem by yours truly.

   There are a lot of ways I like to prepare eggs, but a staple in my fridge are mayak eggs (also called drug eggs, which faiiiiir) and I think they should be for you too. Mayak eggs are, simply put, a Korean recipe for soft-boiled and jammy eggs marinated in soy sauce, garlic, chilis, and other goodness. They’re good on *literally* anything. I’m not being hyperbolic. I have eaten rice and drug eggs for breakfast probably every workday for the past week and a half. I’m obsessed with them. O B S E S S E D. Put them on toast, on top of noodles, on a snack plate with a tinned fish and a thick cracker, or eat them immediately out of the tupperware. You will be pleased, I promise.
   
   Below is how I prepare them, but this is also a great recipe to follow.
   
   Enjoy! 🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚
   
   - Bring a pot to a rolling boil and gently drop in 5 to 6 eggies.
   - Set a timer for 6 and a half minutes.
   - Immediately put those guys into an ice bath after the timer starts yelling at you.
   - Let them cool for a few before getting ready to peel.
   - The best way to peel is to thump the top of the egg, the butt of the egg, and then do some light taps all around while rolling them on the counter—they’ll peel very easily. And if they get a little mangled whatever, eggs are a personal journey.
   - Add your peeled eggos to a container and cover in about a cup (maybe more maybe less idk these are guesses) of soy sauce, a quarter cup rice vinegar, lots of chili crisp, some sliced up garlic and fresh chilis and green onion, gochugaru, and sesame seeds. Dilute a heaping spoonful of gochujang in water and cover to the tippy tops of the eggs for full marination.
   - Let them marinate at least over night before devouring them in about three days, maybe less.
   

5. When in doubt, slow down.
   
   February has been weird. Maybe it’s because it’s a leap year and four years ago at this time I was still reeling from what I previously had thought was the tail-end of the most painful chapter of my life (EL OH EL PAST ME) right before COVID hit. Maybe it’s because Winter does this to people. Maybe it’s because I’m getting congested again at night. Maybe it’s because I’m a red head now. Maybe it’s because this chapter is getting new characters and that’s exciting but also intimidating. Maybe it’s because I don’t bite my nails anymore. Maybe it’s because the Universe is cruel and also hilarious and also ironic and also just random. Idk, dear reader!!! Sometimes idk what to say, what a concept!!!!
   
   What I do know is this:
   
   If you don’t know what to say, it is perfectly ok to not say anything. You will never regret moving through things methodically, thoughtfully, and purposefully. You will never regret keeping your hand close to your chest if it doesn’t feel like the right time to reveal it. You will never regret giving yourself the gift of time.
   
   I can be a very rushed person. I eat faster than anyone I know. I walk fast enough to keep up with my 6 feet best friends at 5’2”. I hate getting out of the car to go into the restaurant by myself because the solo wait hurts my brain. I hate waiting for texts back, or how long it takes to color my roots, or commuting. I speak so fast I caveat almost every presentation I give. I left the only home I’d ever known at 18 and have literally never lived there again. I don’t think I have a pause button—if I do you definitely have to hit it more than once for it to take.
   
   But in this season of my life I think I’m being trained on the art of seeing the value in waiting. On seeing what happens. On planning, even far, far in advance. On the point of purpose, even if it feels grating, exhausting, and even painful.
   
   I’m sure there’s a quote I’m forgetting about things being worth the wait, or whatever. Frankly I’m forgetting it a little bit on purpose (ironic!) because I don’t feel it completely yet. I’m chomping at the proverbial bit, wanting to run but not feeling totally ready or strong enough to do so. Wanting to go all in but knowing I’ve don’t quite have the hand for that; I need a few more cards. Wanting to leap but needing to have more clarity on what’s at the bottom first.
   
   But I know I will. I know I’ll get there. I’ve gotten there before I can do it again.
   And that’s worth waiting for.
   
   That’s the quote, probably.
   
   Enjoy these vague little thoughts because you’re just going to have to wait for me to say more.
   

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