The Reconstruction of Miss Doxie
HOLY SHIT, I don't even believe it. I am on my website! I am TYPING ON MY WEBSITE. This might make me teary, and I never thought I would live to see the day. I am sure I will complain about it all in much tedious, annoying detail below, so get all psyched for that. Obviously.
But, of course, first thing's first: before I even start on the ugly divorce of Doxie and Internet, let me begin by telling y'all that my dad is better. It took a long time. During that long time, he gravitated between "He'll be back to normal any day!" and "Wait, maybe he needs some really invasive surgery, Our Bad." He finally settled on the former, and now he's doing really well. He's even at work, and so I get to follow him around suspiciously, trying to keep him from doing too much, and pestering him by saying things like, "When are you going home? Have you taken your vitamins? Eat this orange. I AM CALLING MOM." I am not annoying at all.
But, at any rate, there was a lot of worrying there, for a while. And, turns out, I do not like the possibility of my Dad being taken away from me. Not a bit. None of us do, and it took all of us a long time to get back to normal, and even longer to get caught up with our previously-scheduled lives. Toss in some additional, far-less-critical (but still annoying as all shit) other issues, and I managed to get pretty turned around there, in a number of different ways. It was Big Fun.
I am so sorry to have kept everyone waiting for so long, though, and that certainly was not my intention when I wrote that last entry. As much as I appreciate the overwhelming concern and support from all of you, I just hate that people have been worried about me and my family. And I would have loved to pop in and tell you all that we were in one piece, but that is where that aforementioned Divorce comes into play. Which I will sum up thusly:
Because the Universe is how it is, Dad's illness corresponded precisely with the time that something vague and technical went wrong with the back-end of my website. This vague and technical problem started popping up, "FORBIDDEN! NO! GO AWAY!" errors every time I tried to log in. And this was...new. Usually, when my site has a conniption, all that happens is that the comments turn off and an entry or two gets sucked into the Internet ether. Locking me out entirely, however? Hello, new problem! Nice fucking timing.
So, I dug in where I could, and probably made things ten times worse by my fumbling, and then this story goes on for many more paragraphs, during which I tried to figure out if the problem was the server, which was experiencing a “Critical Error,” it informed me, or if it was the site itself, which wanted nothing to do with me whatsoever. Alllll of these paragraphs are boring, and so I am not going to get into it, but I will say that HOLY SHIT, TODAY, this actual day that is happening right NOW, and for the first time in...months, everything seems to be turned back on. (I mean, I think it is. I haven’t tried to publish this yet. Maybe I am in for a big surprise that will involve cussing! Maybe I am just talking to myself. In which case: HI ME! THIS SHIT IS STILL BROKEN). Provided that this is working, then I have all this shiny new bandwidth to play with, and I am upgraded in vague ways I do not understand, and I am sort of unreasonably excited about all of it. And, hey there, world! Did you miss me?
So, there you have it. You are kind of caught up, we can all stop worrying about my dad, things are [allegedly] fixed, and I am thrilled, and thank you hosting people, for getting it all sorted. And I am sorry, hosting people, for being an idiot about the whole thing and making matters worse. It is what I do.
But mostly, I am sorry that so many people were concerned. If I could have popped in to tell everyone that we were okay, and that we were getting better, I would have. Disappearing after such a dire and "Death! DEAAAATH!" entry was not good form. I did not mean to disturb people, and I have tried to write back everyone who wrote to me (although emails, too, went all kerfluffle for a good two months; ask me about how much fun THAT was). I am still making my way through everything, and I just feel really bad about the whole business.
But, oh, you guys. So many things have happened! Nothing, like, important, but you know. Things like falling down and drinking stuff and going places that are ill-advised. Some of these things have been really funny and awesome, and they would happen and I would think, "Holy shit, I've got to write about this!" before remembering, with crushing disappointment, that the Internet dumped me. The Internet dumped me, and refused to take my calls, and stole all my good CDs and scrawled my phone number on bathroom stalls all over Atlanta. The Internet didn't want to hear about the saga of the Dippin' Dots of Jesus, or about how I was attacked by a homicidal squirrel, or about Gimmme's uniboob, or Bo's new sleeping protocols. The Internet had moved on, probably to someone on myspace, and I was left a sad, clingy mess, begging, "Please? Can't we try again? I’ll be better this time!" while pouring my heart out to customer service representatives across the globe ("I SWEAR WE WERE SO HAPPY ONCE"). Because I have pride and all.
In the end, I fought for our love, and won, mostly because I threw money at the Internet until it agreed to give me another chance. Because, good news! The Internet is kind of a whore. (JUST KIDDING LOVE YOU INTERNET NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN).
And, that is all. Well, except for the Dippin' Dots and the squirrel and the fact that I have concluded that I am being haunted by a really irritating ghost who likes AM radio, and some other stuff I will think of shortly. And also, interesting news: I have thought of one way I can try to make it up to everyone that I went missing for so long, and that is by making a spectacular ass out of myself. Which is something I probably would have done anyway, but this way is much faster, really. Plus, it allows me to make lists. So, ass-making! LET IT COMMENCE.
And here is what I am going to do, to mark the Reconstruction of the site and the Reuniting of Me + Internet ( = True Love 4Ever!). While I’ve been off, I spent a lot of time living at my parents' house, doing whatever. And while there, I discovered all of the most frightening pictures of me that have ever been taken, all secreted away by myself, in hopes they would never be discovered by boyfriends or members of the press. These are the pictures I won't even show Dukay because I am afraid that he will start harboring serious concerns about what lurks in my gene pool (Dukay: start saving for braces!). And these pictures have stayed hidden, until now. Now, I am totally going to publish them ALL on the internet, every day for the next week. It will be a retrospective of awkward. I am totally psyched.
Please note that, during the times these pictures were taken, I was often painfully, remarkably, hilariously funny looking, and even during times when I looked relatively normal, I still had what is undoubtedly the worst sense of appropriate footwear/clothing/hair styling that you have maybe ever seen. I think I can best describe what we are dealing with here by telling you that, in the course of my fashion experimentation, I have lovingly embraced the following themes (TIME FOR LISTS WOO!):
1. Accessories, Accessories, Accessories!
2. EVERYTHING MUST MATCH EVERYTHING EVERYTHING EVEN PROPS
3. Big Hair is Happy Hair
4. Little House on One Fucked up Prairie
5. Clothes That Are Clearly Not Mine
8. Your Mom
I will post these, plus other uncategorized monstrosities, right here, using all this fancy ass new bandwidth I [allegedly] have. You maybe should not be eating when this occurs. Like, for example, now:
I call this picture Nature’s Majesty, Plus Acid Wash.
(Actually, that one is totally tame. Things really only go downhill from here.)
(Like, downhill to here: )
Acid wash, pinch rolls, Bill Cosby’s castoff sweater, and what appears to be a mullet. Plus, I am playing chess, probably to distract my thirteen year old self from all the love-struck preteens beating a path to my door. HEY BOYS! TAKE A NUMBER. There is plenty of awesome to go around.
So, anyway. That's everything, y'all (really, all you wanted and so much more! That you didn't want! Like food poisoning!). I am sorry for disappearing, but things are looking up at last, and I'm confident that my year is about to start getting a hell of a lot better. And I’m thinking that Mister Internet and I will live happily ever after, so long as I promise never to wear acid wash or a mullet ever, ever again.