Let me begin by explaining that I'm not really one who seeks much attention. Let me rephrase that, entirely. I'm not the kind of guy who wants attention from a lot of people. No, no. I'm a much more dangerous type. I want a lot of attention from the few friends that I have. Especially if I really like a person and believe that they are cooler than me. In that case, I do a lot of inundating through our mutual social-media outlets and god-forbid I have your phone number. In this case, I will text and text and text the most mundane information. It's a fact. The following is a list of texts that I recently sent to the same person:
"I think I will go back to Walmart and buy too much candy."
"Or go to Sonic and buy this milkshake thing that has sugar cookies in it."
"Or eliminate the middleman and just grab a spoon and my bag of brown sugar."
"Also, I ate fried cheese and popcorn for dinner."
"I think your roommate is making a mayonnaise cake."
That's fun and everything until I start to wonder why they haven't responded. It could be that this person doesn't really know how to respond to 'I ate fried cheese and popcorn for dinner' or maybe this person is doing things that don't involve a cell phone. Things like napping. Doing dishes. Showering. But that thought won't cross my mind until after I've completely dissected our relationship. At what point did I completely blow it? The least they could have done was face the facts with me and said, "Libby--the thing is that you're lacking some of the adorable crazy and you have a little too much of the potentially-rabid crazy for me to be comfortable maintaining our relationship." Who am I kidding, a normal person wouldn't say that. Especially someone who is almost certainly suffering from swollen brains. I wiki'd it and people rabies is too close to people zombie for me to be alright with it.
I didn't intend for this post to go here at all. Let's get back on track. We last left off with me talking about how I'm not that into lots of attention--though I'm sure you doubt that. Especially since you already know about my recurring daydream fantasy in which I am pulled up on stage to duet and the crowd goes wild. Anyway, my impending famousness is one I'm going to have to take for the team because I think the people, they need me. I have figures to make my point.
Now, we all know that there have been a few people who say stuff like "Libby, you're so funny and good at story telling and sexy also and not at all annoying when you're drunk." Ok, few people have said all of those things in the same sentence but they have all been said and I lumped them all together for efficiency and effect. Anyway, I think that laughing and enjoying yourself for at least a little bit is super important and truly necessary to maintaining a delightful life and, thus by trickle-down effect, creating a magical world for everyone.
Now, if you take the small sampling of people who have said those kind things and then subtract the number of people who were too drunk to count (6) and the people who were trying to get me to have sex with them (1) and then multiply that by 100 (to make up for such a small sampling), you'll get about three hundred sober and unaroused people who actually would like to read something that I had written. That is a lot of people. And, frankly, I think that if I can make their days mildly less sucky for a minute, then I'd like to try to be helpful in that way and consequently save the world from all of The Crap. I should have started this earlier so that I'd be famous enough by 2012 to hold back the world-ending monsoons but sometimes ideas come too late, my friends. I'm not god.
So that's why in 2011 I'm going to try to find those people who are represented by my arbitrary figure. Honestly, though, I think I'll only accomplish that by getting famous. Because we shant forget that, according to my figures, for every one person who truly likes me, there are two who are just drunk and love everyone too much and .33% of a person who's just trying to get me to do naughty things. There will also be others. Let us not forget those who are easily offended by relatively questionable content, non-English readers, the uninterested (read: boring) and other people who are marginally more famous than me.
I've been doing some research on my own and taking note of what is is that I read in other blogs that I can use to inspire me.
- There's Hilah. Hila's a susie-homemaker bad ass. She seems to be trying to get Comedy Central to consider adding some cooking shows. It's not a terrible idea. The thing is, though, that Hilah's more of a vlogger and I have a fear of video cameras. Also, she has an adorable cartoon of herself to use and I would like to copy... I mean "use as inspiration" that idea.
- I also read Matt Logelin. This is where I learned some important things: chicks dig a man with a baby, a sob story goes a long way, if you get on Oprah you'll be set for life, and people love it when you post incredible photos, the occasional F word and your favorite indie music choices.
- And then there's obviously Allie Brosh. My current (and probably forever) hero. What I wouldn't give to be able to tell a story like she does. I want to be the coppiest of all cats when it comes to...life mostly. I want to draw bear sharks and wear sexy dragon costumes. I want to be chased by geese and live with Boyfriend (not her boyfriend, they seem to have a perfect set-up for them). Anyway, she's pretty much cornered the bear-shark, orc rapist niche which is good and also bad. Good because I can go there and feel supremely normal and bad because from now on everything I want to do will likely be considered "copyright infringement". Laws suck. Except for when they protect my content, in which case they are mighty. Allie is really good at trying not to use relative words. She explains her stories with such gusto and completeness that you don't even need the remarkable cartoons that go along with them. But then you do get to see them and it is great. Also, Allie is unafraid of her weirdness and even exploits it which makes her not at all weird and, instead, a very, very ordinary and thrilling person.
So baisically in order to achieve instant fame I'm going to need a few things, a cartoon of myself to use in my header, a header, a kick-ass title, a little sadness and a bear-shark. Maybe I'll have a badger-mermaid. Maybe not. It'll come to me.
Maybe I'll need some help. Now accepting submissions for cartoon Libbys and kick ass titles. I'll write a story.
PS Oh yeah, and being famous will be awesome because it's just awesome. And people will be my friends so that they can be famous, too and so that Us Weekly will write stuff like "Libby wore slippers and an old, yellow, stained sweatshirt with a sad-hat to The Well this weekend with a friend who was wearing real shoes." And I won't mind that they want to be my friends for that reason because I'll always have someone to go to the movies with me and because finally I won't be the one sending the too-many text messages.
PPS This post had a lot of links and if you read it on Facebook I'm not sure you'll get to see all of them. So you should go to the original post and visit all those things so that when Allie Brosh checks her analytics she'll find this post and then I'll be back to being a clingy person. Seriously, though, Allie, I think we'd be friends.