And The Dead Shall Rise, Right?

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A few months ago one of my “friends” on Facebook pointed out that hardly anyone ‘likes’ my Facebook posts so that means I am an ‘outsider’ ( though ‘unpopular’ came up later ). That’s right. I’m unpopular because a bunch of people that I don’t really know never go to my Wall and validate me as a human being worth of being a member of polite society by giving me a thumbs up or a GIF of a puppy spitting hearts.

But never fear, there are ways to change that!

I can make cryptic remarks about people I know, I can share intimate details of my close and personal relationships. If I do that, people will come back and see if I’ve expanded on those tidbits for the drama of it all.

People like to see pictures of the inside of your home, what you eat, what kind of furniture you have.  Let people vomit all over each other and what you think in the comment section.

That’s how you make yourself relevant on Social Media.

Dish. Dish.Dish.

Leave no stone unturned.

Share the most personal details of your life with your ‘friends’ if you want your ‘friends’  to REALLY like you.


What has this world come too? and how the Hell do I get myself out of it?


Let’s Go!

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I have a plan, an idea and inspiration for the direction I want to take my writing and other creative endeavors this year.

Last year I did pretty good with meeting my writing goals so Ithis is all a go- barring one of the now and then landmines that can set me back a week or so ( like when I hurt my back ) I really did stay on my creative path.

Yay me.

My poor little Lost Creek Blog is supposed to be my on line journal, but I set it down because I thought- who cares about my random thoughts and silly musings? And then I realized Facebook pretty much does that every single second of our lives, so just sitting down and telling the story of my day and all of that stuff is not exactly some sort of weird idea that I have to sweat over.

How sad is that, I actually forgot what Journals are for because like the rest of the known world I use Facebook.

Well. I guess I should work on changing that.



Happy New Year …Again

The truth is, I’m sort of glad I don’t do the New Years Eve Party scene anymore.

I hated the rushing, I hated the drama that happens when people drink or when they feel like this is the night to purge whatever has been nesting up their backside all year, I hated the glitter that got over everything- my hairand up my nose and in my ears.

Above all, I especially hated celebrating something that pretty much happens every single morning anyway.

Now on New Years Eve I order pizza and wear fleece pants with Hello Kitty designs all over them, I wear ginormous sweatshirts that I pop into the dryer for a few minutes so that it will be toasty warm when I dive into it  and I wear slippers that look like wolves-cozy snuggly soft wolves with pointy little ears that fascinate my dog to distraction.

Then at the stroke of Midnight I take my dog outside and we watch the fireworks.

While we are outside also eat the rest of the pizza because nothing is sadder then uneaten pizza the morning after a holiday,  and we both wear sunglasses even though it’s midnight because why the heck not.

I guess if you want to celebrate your idea of a new start or you want to celebrate the fact you got into  that special dress or your with the love of your life and you get to throw back wine after butchering a toast to the New Year in a foreign language go ahead.

Knock yourself out.

But last night I sat out in a dog park with  the best dog in the world, I was warm and cozy in a pair Hello Kitty Fleece pants, a hoodie that I got from the Pompeii exhibit that came through Seattle awhile ago and my lucky pair of thirty-eight year old Ray Ban sunglasses with one cracked lens.

Hamish’s glasses have palm trees on them and for some reason he likes them.

Hamish sat next to me on the bench and we ate Pizza, we watched the fireworks

and it was pretty damn awesome.

Happy New Year.

I mean it and I didn’t even have to write it on a balloon.