My Twitter Account Reads Like a Dysfunctional Food Network Show

They say you should write what you know, which is why I never write about math, sex, or spelling “camouflage” right on the first try. 

And even though my Food Network show would just be me sitting on the couch watching Food Network, it’s been brought to my attention from myself that I tweet a lot about food — eating it, pretty much daily trips to go buy it, and wearing it more than I care to admit. 

So I decided to share a few of the highlights from the past couple of months, you know, in case Food Network is reading or something…

1. Rage against the machine.
2. Check to make sure machine is plugged in.
3. Apologize to the toaster for the misunderstanding.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) January 18, 2016

1. Read directions on box.
2. Throw box away.
3. Pull box out of the trash 15 seconds later.
4. Repeat.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) October 25, 2015

I try to find the good in every situation. Wait. That was a typo. I meant “food.” I try to find the food in every situation.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) July 1, 2015

I ate roughly two pieces of lasagna. The third piece I ate rather gently.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) May 10, 2017

If you bump into someone at the grocery store and say goodbye, there's a 99 percent chance you'll see them in every single aisle after that.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) June 20, 2015

Them: Listen to your body more.

Body: You're old. And you want lasagna.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 27, 2018

I'm just a girl, standing in front of a self-checkout, screaming that there's no unexpected item in the bagging area.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) June 15, 2016

I wish being fed up was as delicious as it sounds.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) July 14, 2016

Any food can be finger food if you’re too lazy to go get a fork.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 29, 2018

Directions: Allow food to sit for one minute before consuming.

Me: No.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) March 20, 2018

I think I'm common law married to this box of baking soda in my fridge now, so it's a pretty big day over here today.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) May 27, 2016

You can always count on me to bring my famous recipe of "bag of ice" to your summer cookout.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) May 30, 2016

When one door closes, another one opens. And then closes. And then opens. It’s the fridge. It’s me in front of the fridge.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) December 22, 2015

She died doing what she loved: passive-aggressively sighing when the cashier bags her groceries out of the order that she put them on the belt.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 22, 2018

I don't require much to be happy. Four meals a day. Some snacks. Nine hours of sleep. Complete solitude and no social obligations whatsoever.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 6, 2018

Serving size suggestion: 1/2 cup

Me: No.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 24, 2018

A majority of my decisions are made based on the availability of food and a comfortable place to sit down.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) May 16, 2016

"Yeah, I don't know. Maybe try eating more carbs." – Me, as a therapist.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) May 2, 2016

For someone who hates math, I sure do spend a lot of time calculating how long until I'm going to eat again.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 13, 2016

I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to give me back the change from my groceries with all the bills facing the same way.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 14, 2016

https://twitter.com/AbbyHasIssues/status/719519823823310848

I don’t need to run a marathon to cry, load up on carbs, and ask someone to wrap me up in a blanket.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) April 16, 2018

If I could have dinner with anybody living or dead, I would choose someone who is dead so I didn’t have to listen to them chew.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) March 17, 2016

I think the best part of being a superhero would be that you could turn your cape around and use it as a bib.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) March 7, 2016

My one-woman show, “I Will Unstick These Freaking Grocery Carts If It Kills Me” is getting rave reviews from fellow shoppers.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) October 28, 2014

I generally avoid confrontation, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let this serving size suggestion tell me how to live my life.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) January 14, 2016

https://twitter.com/AbbyHasIssues/status/904126116239159300

https://twitter.com/AbbyHasIssues/status/703988897638957056

The only way an adult coloring book could help calm my stress is if it was somehow edible.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) February 24, 2016

I just got home from the store so I should probably start making a list of things I need from the store.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) February 21, 2016

Of course I cut carbs. How else am I supposed to butter the inside of my bagel?

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) February 10, 2016

Yes, this pasta sauce is homemade if you live in Aisle 8 of the store.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) February 9, 2016

TV Guy: "Here our subject is in her natural environment, foraging for food."

*Camera cuts to me on the couch, finding an almond in my bra*

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) February 3, 2016

I don’t need to run a marathon to load up on carbs and ask someone to wrap me up in a blanket.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) January 29, 2016

I grabbed the right Tupperware lid on the first try and I've never felt more drunk with power

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) March 25, 2016

If you can't find the barcode on a product, maybe the self-checkout isn't for you. Don't be a hero.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) January 23, 2016

If you ask me, food for thought sounds like a pretty good trade.

— Abby Heugel (@AbbyHasIssues) January 3, 2016

What can I say? Bon appétit!

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I’m Pretty Much a Motivational Speaker

There’s no shortage of inspirational accounts on the Internet, and unless you’re new here, I am not one of those accounts.

OK. Maybe I’m being a little hard on myself. I decided to take a look at some of my tweets and updates and see if maybe I’m mistaken, if maybe I am actually some sort of motivational speaker and I don’t even realize it!

After two minutes of careful evaluation, it turns out I can be inspirational in several different aspects of life. Sure, it’s not “conventional,” but one can not be picky when one spends more time picking out a head of broccoli at the store than she does picking out her clothes in the morning. 

First of all, there is my prowess in the kitchen and around food:

The only time I’ve ever cut carbs is when I was slicing a bagel.

7:30: Eats breakfast. 7:35: Checks clock and mentally calculates how long until I can eat lunch.

I successfully opened a plastic produce bag at the store in under 2 minutes and the manager gave me my own reserved parking spot in the lot.

I react to the smell of fresh bread the way a cat reacts to the sound of a can opener.

The most unrealistic thing about commercials is when it shows people actually sharing a frozen pizza.

It turns out the answer to my problems wasn’t at the bottom of a jar of cashew butter, but the important thing is that I tried.

And my extraordinary social skills: 

On second thought, maybe faking my death was a slight overreaction to being stuck in a group text.

The woman who cut in front of me at the store had a box of tampons, ice cream, and wine in her cart. I wasn’t about to mess with that situation.

Home is where the people aren’t.

My friend just got her Ph. D, and I’m just over here wondering why they don’t make the macaroni out of cheese in the first place.

Them: Good morning!
Me: This feels like a personal attack.

Saw a guy throw a fit and then walk into an automatic door, so it’s been a pretty solid day over here.

I can be socially awkward, but not “Interview portion of Jeopardy” socially awkward.

Not to mention my domestic disability dominance: 

“My lavish lifestyle affords me certain luxuries,” – I say as I place a new Kleenex box that perfectly matches my bathroom on the toilet.

Welcome home, new body wash. Meet your family: a half-full bottle of conditioner and 983 almost empty bottles of shampoo turned upside down.

I like to do laundry in stages. For example, right now I’m in denial that I should be doing laundry.

Nothing travels faster than a roll of toilet paper you drop while sitting on the toilet.

The cashier at the dollar store told me to have a good day like my purchase of shelf liner suggested any other plan.

Unfortunately, “weather stripping” isn’t what I thought it was, and the employees at Home Depot didn’t care for my little dance.

I establish my dominance as the alpha neighbor by putting my trash out on the curb before everyone else.

Not to mention just living my life to the fullest: 

Monday through Friday: Hits the snooze three times in the morning.
Saturday: Wakes up before the alarm would go off during the week and can’t get back to sleep.

My personality is 30 percent genetic, 10 percent environmental, and 60 percent whether or not I’m hungry and slightly inconvenienced.

I tripped but then I found an almond on the floor, so it’s true what they say about one door closing and another one opening.

Don’t sweat the small stuff. Lump it all together with the big and medium things so you can have a major breakdown instead.

I just stapled the hem of my workout pants like some kind of white trash fashion MacGyver.

It took me five minutes to realize why the unplugged toaster wasn’t working, so I just went ahead and used my college degree as a napkin.

I just used a real trash bag in my bathroom instead of a plastic grocery bag like I’m some kind of Rockefeller or something.

So, as you can see, I basically have inspiration coming out of my pores. No, wait, that’s garlic. Oh well. At least  I tried. 

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It’s Not Easy Being Me

I’ve never had my identity stolen, thank god, but I have had a few instances with identity theft-ish things with my taxes and debit card. Needless to say, it’s very stressful and not that much fun.

But with that said, these criminals obviously aren’t that bright if they’re trying to take my identity. Why?

Along with a variety of psychological malfunctions, you are also getting an intolerance to soy and bullshit. But even more than that, you’re getting a lot of responsibility. 

If you checked out my Twitter or Facebook pages, you would know that being me requires that you are:

First and foremost, a social butterfly who is totally a people person.

Like a good neighbor, stay over there and be satisfied with the cursory “hello” head nod.

A chipmunk just ran into my leg, screamed and ran away. Given my history, it’s safe to assume it was male.

Relationship status: Just found an almond in my pajamas. This is as close to nuts in my bed that I’ve had in years.

I can tell just by talking to some people that they lift up the car door handle every time that you go to unlock it.

Age 23: Yay! Plans!
Age 33: Yay! Plans got cancelled!

I establish dominance at the store by never breaking eye contact with the person behind me when placing down the grocery lane divider.

Ever caught a 33-year-old woman singing “Uptown Funk” to the stray cat in her yard? If you’re my neighbor, you can say that you have.

I never talk on the phone while I’m driving. Or when I’m not. Basically I just avoid talking on the phone whenever I can.

I accidentally made eye contact with a creepy guy at the store while putting on ChapStick and now he thinks that we’re dating. 

Along those lines, you will be responsible for being a fashion icon.

I will never have the confidence of people who use magnifying mirrors.

Can someone else be a sex symbol today? My good T-shirt is still in the wash.

It took me two months to use a package of 7-day teeth whitening strips in case my dedication to beauty was ever in doubt.

I’ve never won the lottery, but I did just find a piece of cereal in my bra so I imagine it feels something like that.

If you played connect-the-dots with the stains on my shirt, it would reveal a picture of a grown woman who should probably use a bib.

I think I just blinded a chipmunk with the whiteness of my legs.

Well, set the “Consecutive days gone without spilling food on myself” calendar back to zero. It was good two day run.

An old man told me I reminded him of his late wife. I’m hoping he meant while she was alive. 

You don’t have to be Martha Stewart, but there is a certain domestic goddess status to maintain.

A good indication of your cooking skills is when you’re asked to just bring ice to a party.

A “Woman vs. Food” show but just me attempting to get food from the fork to my mouth without dropping it in my lap first.

I just used four paper towels to wipe out one Ziploc bag to reuse. I think I’m doing recycling wrong.

I just accidentally hit the switch for the garbage disposal instead of the light again. In related news, I no longer fear death.

The food isn’t done until the smoke detector says that it’s done.

I just burned my hand on the toaster. There will be no more fancy breakfasts around here.

I threw old kale under my feeder last night and now the squirrels are requesting coconut water and wearing yoga pants.

And finally, you are expected to be a motivational force, inspiring people with your knowledge.

Saw a guy pushing a “pull” door several times and instead of helping him, I said, “Never give up. Don’t let anyone tell you how to live.”

Sometimes I impress myself. Other times I try and get out of the car while still wearing my seat belt and wonder how I made it this long.

You say “bed.” I say “nocturnal worry pod of overanalysis.” It’s really just semantics.

My weekend to-do list just reads like a menu of things that I want to eat.

That’s one small step to the fridge, and one giant leap back to the couch.

The woman who cut in front of me at the store had a box of tampons, ice cream, and wine in her cart. I wasn’t about to mess with that situation.

All I’m saying is that I’ve seen more people smiling while eating than smiling while out on a run.

I just threw away my to-do list. Like I need that kind of stress in my life.

Stop, drop and roll is also great advice for when someone unexpectedly knocks on your door.

I woke up planning on being positive, but my spoon fell into my oatmeal and so now that plan has gone to hell.

If you’re happy and you know it, stay in bed. It only goes downhill from there.

Okay. So the answer to my problems wasn’t at the bottom of that jar of almond butter, but the important thing is that I tried.

If I burn my mouth on pizza one more time I will continue to eat pizza because it’s delicious and I can’t hold both a grudge and a fork.

“I’m in no mood for this today.”- Me, any time of any day when anything slightly inconveniences me.

I try to find the good in every situation. Wait. That was a typo. I meant “food.” I try to find the food in every situation.

I never forget a face. Just names. And dates. And why I walked into a room and where I was going with this.

See? It’s not easy being me, so you should probably just move on to someone else. Remember, I have issues.

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Choose Your Own Adventure

Today I am going to boggle your mind with not one, not two, not three but FOUR different posts you should read, none of which are actually on this blog. 

Go figure. 

First, I’ve been over on Your Tango the past couple of weeks talking about:

Why I Don’t Wear Makeup (GASP!)

11 Problems Only Girls With Short Hair Understand

21 Problems Only Skinny Girls Understand (Yes, we have issues.)

And finally, the hilarious Kate Hall interviewed me for her fabulous “Hall of Tweets” blog that profiles huge, big, influential hilarious tweeters, which is why it’s a mystery that she asked to profile me. But regardless of my confusion, she DID interview me and you can hop on over and read about how I talk to myself in 140 characters or less on a daily basis. 

Beyond the Bio: Interview with @AbbyHasIssues

So there you go. Choose your own adventure–hopefully all four of them–and I’ll see you back here on Friday. 

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P.S. Facebook has changed it’s reach AGAIN and only 5-10 percent of people are seeing my updates. To ensure you’re not missing a thing, add my Facebook page to your “Interests” lists, subscribe to my blog or follow me on Twitter.

Realistic Social Media Notifications

If you’re on any form of social media, you know that you can opt in or opt out of getting notifications any time someone “likes,” retweets, pins or comments on your updates or on the status of your friends.

I generally opt out of getting the emails because too many emails make me twitchy and I really don’t need extra noise. When I go to the site, I’ll see it. The end.

But I might change my mind if I was sent more realistic social media notifications—something more than “Anne commented on your status update” or “Bill retweeted one of your tweets.”  I have a few suggestions in case anyone wants to contract out my services.

Facebook

That relative that you were forced to “friend” is replying “LOL” to all your updates from the past month.

Fifteen people posted Someecards or memes expressing their addiction to coffee/wine, their love of Friday/hate of Monday or being a parent.

Your friend Ann changed her profile picture seven times in 10 minutes in an attempt to look sexier.

No one “liked” Anne’s new profile picture after three minutes, so she changed it again.

Your cousin just rolled his eyes at the link to your latest blog post.

A friend just invited you to an event tomorrow night that’s being held on the other side of the country.

“That” couple is having a private conversation through one of their status updates. He loves her.  She loves him back. They are “so blessed.”

The “bad boy” from high school just posted a picture of him braiding the hair of his toddler twin girls.

Don’t bother checking your Facebook fan page. Only 3 percent of your fans are seeing your posts.

Pinterest

Gina started a wedding board to send hint after to hint to her boyfriend in a passive aggressive, Pinterest-y way.

Sally shared the same pin of her last blog post to 12 different boards in five minutes.

Beware! Three friends a going through a phase and pinning nothing but inspirational posters.

Someone liked one of 235 recipes you pinned that you’ll probably never make.

Becky created a board of Creative Projects to Make with Cat Hair.

Twitter

Someone almost retweeted you but instead just added it as a “favorite” because they were ticked they didn’t think of it first.

Lisa says, “GOOD MORNING!!!”

Several people you follow are engaged in a Twitter Party. Avoid until party is done.

Bob is tweeting at famous people in an attempt to get them to follow him.

You are now only 15 people away from 2,000 followers and only three friends away from having three friends.

Someone is retweeting every compliment they’ve ever received.  (Suggested action: block or unfollow)

Jenny made toast, took a picture, posted it with a recipe and added multiple hashtags #bread #toaster #lunch #food #eat #noonecaresitstoast

Three people unfollowed you because you didn’t follow them back after they had been following you for five minutes.

Your super funny tweet got no stars.

Justin Beiber tweeted, “I like tacos.” It was retweeted 465,000 times. Maybe you should give up.

LinkedIn

Someone you have never worked with just asked you to endorse them for biomedical engineering with a focus on potato blight in Idaho, or something similar you have no knowledge of.

A complete stranger is waiting for your response to an invitation to connect with no customized message attached.

Mary is celebrating a 5-year work anniversary at a job you didn’t even know that she had.

A connection just endorsed you for “grocery shopping” and “snacks.”

Well, yay! Finally an endorsement that makes sense.

Your turn. What notifications would you suggest? 

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P.S. Facebook has changed it’s reach AGAIN and only 5-10 percent of people are seeing my updates. To ensure you’re not missing a thing, add my Facebook page to your “Interests” lists, subscribe to my blog or follow me on Twitter.

Rodney Lacroix of “Mental Poo” Has Issues

Guess what? We actually have a MAN on the blog today spilling his issues. I know. Craziness. But given the title of his books—Things Go Wrong For Me and Perhaps I’ve Said Too Much—he’ll fit in rather nicely.

Now, I don’t remember how I “met” Rodney other than we have mutual online friends, but as soon as I saw him on Twitter I knew I had to follow this dude. He’s hilarious, and although his blog is currently on hiatus, his tweets and books are still going strong (and yes, I’ve read his book and laughed entirely too much at how not politically correct but completely honest it was.)

So without further ado, let’s crawl into his mental man cave.

Name: Rodney Lacroix
Blog: Mental Poo (currently on hiatus)

Where, what and why do you write?

I do most of my writing at work where I write about how to look like you’re working but are, in fact, actually writing. This usually creates a wormhole. Also, I’m from the future.

I write because my head is so full of absolute garbage that if I don’t write it ends up coming out in speech. Usually this happens at awkward times like at parties or during my own wedding vows. True story, when prompted for the “I Do” answer at my wedding, I actually responded “I like trains.” This is the direct result of what happens when you promise your children you are going to do something that only they know about and now you look like an a-hole in front of all your friends. Good times.

What’s the one “issue” or frustration annoying you the most right now? 

It’s no secret that I actually really hate working and the whole process of earning money that doesn’t involve writing. I’ve actually started a third book (on Romance Tips – I’m not joking) but haven’t had time to get past the first chapter.

Editor’s note: Nope, can’t relate to that work thing at all (twiddles thumbs, looks up, whistles to herself…)

Three websites you visit every day.

1) Twitter

2) Facebook

3) Google – so I can Google my name and see if my photo comes up in any article that also mentions Mila Kunis or Kate Upton.

Another editor’s note: You mean besides the restraining order?

What’s an unusual talent and/or accomplishment you could never put on a resume?

I can juggle. I learned how to juggle when my kids were little because I thought it would be neat that they could say, “Hey, my dad can juggle.” Who they would tell this to that would actually be impressed, I have no idea.

I also am 7 months in on learning electric guitar. I kind of suck at it so I may resort to just juggling guitars if this shit doesn’t pan out.

Because you’re a Twitter All Star, are there any celebrities that follow you?

Jenny McCarthy follows me which is probably a direct result of her reviewing and giving me a quote on my first book. We still have yet to make sweet sweet love, but I assume that’s coming right after she gets out of this “Donny Wahlberg” phase.

Editor again: Don’t worry, Rodney. You’ve got the Right Stuff

If you could rule the land for one day, what laws would you create and enforce?

Anyone who answers, “How are you?” or “How you doing?” with “It’s <insert day of week here>” would be immediately put to death. I know it’s Monday, asshole. I didn’t just Quantum Leap.

Me again: Yup, you work in an office.

Who would play you in the movie of your life?  

The guy who played Bernie in the “Weekend at Bernie’s” movies because that’s pretty much how I look every single day. Dead tired with kids literally dragging me all over the goddamn place and that guy really pulled it off.

You can only eat three foods for a week. What are they?

Kate Upton, Mila Ku…OH. Foods.

Teriyaki (beef – not the gross chicken one because I’m pretty sure that is not chicken or if it is it’s some weird undiscovered part of the chicken).

Nutella – duh.

Something healthy to even it all out – probably like grilled chicken salad but it has to have bacon on it. You know what? Scratch that. I’ll just have the bacon. Bacon dipped in Nutella and served on a Teriyaki stick. Also, you didn’t mention anything about drinks so I assume they’re included and it’s open bar all week. This is turning out to be the best week EVER.

What would your life be in a tweet?

Give me your tired, your poor. Your huddled masses. Make them all 5’4″ tall and that’s pretty much me in a nutshell.

---

So there you have it—Rodney in a nutshell. As a bonus, you can take a piece of his nut home with you—in the form of his books, you weirdo—after answering the question below.

What would your life be in a tweet?

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P.S. Facebook has changed it’s reach AGAIN and only 5-10 percent of people are seeing my updates. To ensure you’re not missing a thing, be sure to read the post at the top of my  Facebook page or follow me on Twitter.

My Life is Headline News

Needless to say, the closest I’ll come to having a reality show is if they’re looking to make a montage of someone walking into a room, forgetting why she went in there and walking back out a few times.

Considering the kinkiest part of my weekend was wrestling with the garden hose for 15 minutes, I’m not exactly making headline news with my adventures. But that doesn’t mean I can’t still provide you with some more headlines from my house.

Woman reenacts, ‘Eat. Pray. Love.’ minus the last two things

Chickpea dropped on office floor. Memorial services pending

Missed Connection: You were the hot shirtless jogger who said “hi.” I was the one who waved back with a bag full of dog poop. Look me up.

Group formed to mandate drug testing ‘Price Is Right’ contestants, claiming, ‘No one is naturally that excited about anything.’

Weather: High was 80 degrees. Low was eating a piece of broccoli that fell out of my shirt

Local dentist offers hygienists comfortable with silence for additional fee

On the next episode of ‘Naked & Afraid’: Abby sees a spider in the shower

Invitation stating, ‘Regrets Only,’ sent note: ‘My hair throughout most of the ’90s.’

Chipmunk runs into leg, screams and runs away; Suspect assumed to be male, given victim’s history with the opposite sex

Studies show easiest way to get out of ‘Reply All’ email cycle is to toss computer out window and start a new life

Writer wins $2 on scratch-off lotto ticket, says ‘I promise not to let it change who I am.’

Trending in fashion: ‘I look okay enough to go to Walmart, but not to go to Target’

Woman uses kitchen shears to actually cut food and not open a box; offered Food Network show

Breaking News: Windshield not a force field of invisibility. People see you picking your nose

Motion to rename store ‘Bed, Bath & Beyond My Budget’ denied

Suspected tricks up woman’s sleeve confirmed to be just scented fabric softener sheet

Newest social media craze revealed: 1) Leave your house 2) Talk to real people

Analysts predict most effective retirement plan is cashing in swear jar on desk

Beauty Tip: Save 20 minutes on morning beauty routine by not having morning beauty routine

Compilation video from ATM security footage of woman rocking out in car sold to YouTube for pennies

For 1,356,305th week in a row, Saturday wins award for “Best Day of the Week”

Woman danced like nobody was watching. Got asked to leave store because ‘Scaring the other shoppers’

Writer pulls muscle in chest. No swelling. Great disappointment.

Your turn. What’s one headline from your life?

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Hashing it out with Hashtags

When people hear I’m an editor, the first thing they often assume is that I’m the grammar police.

I am not.

However, I do love language and a little part of my soul dies every time I see it abused. And unfortunately, that happens every time I go on the Internet and am inundated with strings of acronyms and hashtags instead of actual sentences.

Now let’s get something straight.

I like Twitter. I like texting in small doses. I like Facebook updates that don’t involve a laundry list of your accomplishments, ailments or actual laundry list. But to each their own, I get it.

What I don’t get is how it’s now acceptable to stop actually using full words and stringing them together in these things that we call “sentences” to complete thoughts and instead abbreviating them to an acronym or hashtag.

Instead of writing something excitedly, people now lazily throw in #excited. They go with  #missingyou instead of writing “I miss you.”  And instead of adding a caption to the photo of their completely ordinary breakfast, you get 12 hashtags that make absolutely no sense and just look ridiculous–#breakfast #eggporn #toast #breakthefast #truth #food #idontevenknowwhatimdoinganymore #hashbrowns

Really? It’s come to that?

I’ve heard the excuse that it’s faster, but if you type “UR” instead of “you’re” and then add extra “Os” to indicate “UR SOOO happy it’s Friday,” I think that you’re blowing your cover—or that you don’t know which “you’re” you should use.

Simply #WTF

That combination hashtag/acronym above is my attempt at a segue into texting/online abbreviations, such as the ever-popular “LOL” that most often serves as a convenient way to end a boring electronic conversation.

Half the time these things make no sense — no one is literally rolling on the floor laughing their ass off (ROFLMAO), and if they are, they had best log off and seek immediate medical attention — and the other half of the time I have no idea what they mean because THEY AREN’T ACTUALLY WORDS.

So because I’m annoyed and am looking to change my world in some way—the rest of the world is up to you guys—I have proposed some more practical meanings to common acronyms that make more sense to me.

ROFLMAO: Ready? Okay. First Let’s Make Acronyms Original

WTF: Where’s The Food?

STFU: Scanning Twitter for Unfollowers

GI: Google It

IRL: I’m Relaxing. Leave.

RMBI: Read My Blog Instead

OMG: Overused Minced Garlic

BFF: Boobs Falling Flat

CRGOYDF: Conversation Required. Get Off Your Damn Phone

TTYL: Tea Trumps Your Latte

SMH: Swiffering My House

NIWYM: No Idea What You Mean

IMHO: I’m Making Hummus, Okay?

FML: Feeling Mighty Lazy

FWIW: Frequent Whining. I’m Writing.

ASAP: Attention! Send Abby Pesto

LOL: Laundry. Overflowing Laundry

BRB: Busy Reading Books

YJMTUYW: You Just Made That Up You Weirdo

FTW: F*@$ This Winter

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Any suggestions you would add to the list?

Let’s Get Clicky

Technology makes it so much easier to complain about technology, now doesn’t it? Let’s do that for a minute and then get to the part where I refer you to read an ironic post that I wrote.

Facebook is rivaling the Grinch in terms of seasonal spirit by starting to force blog fan pages to pay in order for their followers to actually see what they post. Now I know it’s annoying that I’m complaining about this again, but seriously?

It’s ridiculous, and I’m not going to pay Facebook to share my nonsense with the masses when that money could be spent buying pesto.

No, instead I’m going to be POSITIVE and invite you to subscribe to my blog via email (see that nice little option on the left side of my blog?), follow me on Twitter (one-liners I should probably keep to myself) and remind you to make sure you’re selecting the “Show in Newsfeed” and “All Updates” on Facebook.

Unless you’re actively trying to avoid me, in which case — carry on as you were. Let’s move on.

I’ll have a new post for you here this later week that doesn’t involve self-promotion that makes me feel uncomfortable and twitchy like this does, but today I’m back over In The Powder Room talking more about technology and cults.

What do those two things have in common? I suppose you have to click…HERE to find out.

So let’s summarize:

• Facebook is lame.
• I prefer pesto to popularity.
• You have various options to either interact with or ignore me.
• The serving size suggestion on hummus is about as useful as a Kindle is to a Kardashian. 
• Clicking this link will trick In The Powder Room into thinking that I have friends.

One of those things doesn’t belong, but I felt it was valid. Anyway, go forth and read about cults, soak in the irony of that statement and I’ll see you here for my next post.

Unless you’re actively trying to avoid me, in which case — carry on as you were.

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More Letters I Probably Won’t Send

You can find the first installment here.

To Mr. Tech Support Guy on the Phone:

You asked if I had any more questions. Sorry if “Do you think I sound pretty?” wasn’t what you had in mind. Considering this conversation was recorded for training purposes, I suggest you review it and take notes on how to be a bit more specific with your language.

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To Twitter and Facebook Suggestions:

I appreciate you looking out for me, but you’re greatly overestimating my desire to find more friends. If I haven’t “friended” someone after multiple suggestions, you can bet that it’s because I’m content not connecting with the creepy biology teacher from middle school or my bank. I’m also not interested in homeschooling the kids I don’t have or connecting with singles in my area.

And I will assume the suggestion that I should follow Mr. Peanut implies that I’m nuts, which to be honest, is probably not far from the truth. You nailed it with that one.

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To Amateur Photographers:

Tis the season, fa la la, but the millionth close-up photo of Starbuck’s “red cup” has been taken, so it’s safe to move on to other things now. After all, it is just A RED CUP FROM STARBUCKS filled with overpriced hot liquid. We’re not talking about the golden ticket from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory here, people.

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To the Woman in Front of Me at the Checkout:

I enjoy pleasant conversation with strangers quite often, and our dialogue about the lazy person who left the bug spray in the candy next to the lane was a great way to pass the time. But apparently I have one of those faces that says, “Yes, tell me weird things that I probably shouldn’t be told” because the conversation took quite an odd turn.

The fact that your grandma—who was bitten by a scorpion and died, a fact brought up by the importance of bug spray—married her cousin seemed a little out of left field. But I would like to thank you for clarifying that it was actually “okay” and that you aren’t a product of inbreeding, despite—in your words, not mine—the lack of your back molars and motto of, “kill it and grill it.”

I appreciate you clearing that up.

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To People Who Write Open Letters:

I get that you feel the Internet is the perfect passive-aggressive way to dispense your invaluable opinion on something, but it’s really not that effective. These letters usually start with the “Dear X,” greeting— often to a public personality—followed by the very expected takedown of said person you are writing the letter to, and/or what you feel is a highly controversial/unique opinion.

While stating this opinion to a recipient who will never read it, you often act like you’re just remembering additional complaints in the middle of your letter when we all know you have carefully planned when to say them. The letter often ends with your “knockout” point of contention and a “sincerely” before you sign off.

Here’s an idea. Why don’t you write a real letter to the person who has offended you?  Oh, yes. That’s because they couldn’t care less and are wiping their ass with their money.

Now I realize that this whole post is a form of an open letter, but I am under no delusions that you will write back or that my opinion will actually sway the collective “you” to see the error of your ways. And the other times that I wrote a semi-open letter, I just wanted my yoga pants and bra to feel happy in their new home.

Sincerely,

Abby

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