I interrupt your fabulous Monday for this important message.
I be Instgrammin’ the ongoing karaleeofnofixedaddress story, and I have been for a while, although full disclosure, it’s only because my kid-dults made me do it.
Ya, they set up the account and gave me a lesson on how to ‘gramm, though they’ve found me to be a problematic student. Every now and again, I can hear Sara and Spencer laughing in the Duncan Street cave about another WorldWideWeb faux pas I’ve inadvertently blundered out and into wild-west-online-land, AKA55-style, which would be their latest handle for me.
And when I call them on their sniggering, they explain (in small words) that my ineptitude is part of my charm. But I think they just say that to keep me out of their hula hoop, while ensuring I feel enough of the we-love-you-so-much mama-of-my-boyfriend/aunti/roomie that I am lulled into a complacent stupor that makes me go to the grocery store and buy them food.
Sorry in advance that pretty much all of my posts have no rhyme or reason or thematic connection to any wonderful, prophetic, intelligent, enlightened or transformative life nuggets. I grew up glued to the black and white TV screen watching Looneytunes, the ‘stones—the Flin ones not the Rolling—Monty Python, Star Trek, and later, the Ab Fab ladies, Tracey Ullman and Joan Rivers, albeit before she was popular. (PS Am I the only human who thought Rabbit Test was brilliant?) Suffice to say nothing much good came of all of that. Nonetheless, I somehow think my posts are so spot on that all humans might follow me over the lemming cliff, and it will be only a matter of time before none other than Ellen gets wind of me and jumps on the karaleeofnofixedaddress bandwagon, initiating my next epoch, the fabulously famous one.
I believe my thinking is not delusional.
Anyway, while I wait for the natural course of events to unfold, it would be super-duper if you might consider following me and also harangue your friends, workmates and strangers into doing so. That’s what I do, and it’s not so bad. If you like, I can also mail you some of my business cards to stuff in their hands.
I am aware my ‘grammin may work against my writing career, in Canada at least. It is more than likely that the scattered nature of my ‘gramms will provide solid evidence I am unqualified to be the serious-and-politically-astute type of writer the CanLit crowd loves. Oh well, who wants to be the next Canadian literary sweetheart, anyway. Besides, I have more compelling and attainable goals:
Goal #1: Ellen will find my blog through my ‘gramms, think I am hilarious, become a fan, and I will get my picture taken with her. (Already talked about this.)
Goal #2: Trailer Park Boys will find my blog through my ‘gramms, think I am funny, invite me to their set, and I will get my picture taken with them.
Is this really too much for a woman to ask for? I think not.
Do not fear my request to follow my ‘gramms will be followed with an additional request for Twitter. I am not a fan, though once I was a Twitter’er myself, under my girllivinginboyland persona.
I got in trouble, so I’m not trying that again. Besides, I like ‘grammin better.
Alright… back to work on my book and a bona fide post to come again soon!
PS Channelling my Jamaican roots and can’t get Marley’s Jammin out of my head, only I swapped out lyrics, ‘grammin for ‘jammin. You can try it at home! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSs1HgM0Wos
PPS I also have a YouTube channel where I post random videos called Old Lady, New Technology (Yes, it has a grammar error. You know the old story of the shoemakers, son and all, well, my kid set it up.)