Episode 4 “Hairesy”
Posted on February 26th, 2009
This episode is a humiliating, and hopefully amusing, glimpse into my psyche. It is a true snapshot of how very ridiculous I am. I’m not sure I have the cajones to even post it, BUT if my goal (as stated on my Who IS This Idiot? page) is to remain humble, then the story must be told. I fear the telling, but as some swaggering sadistic showoff once said: No guts. No glory.
Wait. I have an idea. What if I tell you the ending first? That way if you wish to preserve my dignity, you don’t have to read the entire post. OR you can at least tell me you didn’t read it and I can think I have not been humiliated. Fair enough? Sweet. Thanks.
Yep. You can picture it. There’s me, sitting in traffic, hunched over and SPITTING IN MY HAIR.
Why? Because I’m an idiot.
There. Done.
Umm…I think they’re towing your car. You better go check it out. Sorry you can’t read the rest. Bummer. See ya later. Bye.
Not buying it? O.k. Fine. Here’s the story.
I have long, blonde, naturally curly hair. And I will fully admit that much of my self-esteem is tied up in this hair, like a little self-esteem scrunchie.
I really am a modern day Samson. I’m nothing without my hair. I truly believe that all my power emanates from my hair. So much so that I won’t even speak to someone named Delilah. Honest. Name a time when I have spoken with a Delilah. You can’t. Because you won’t see it happen.
I’m not kidding. I am constantly worried about how my hair looks. If my hair does not look good I feel very self conscious and pretty much can’t stop thinking about it. Really. I have a hard time leaving the house if my hair has not been “done.” It’s dumb, I know.
Anyway, the other night I had dinner plans. Before going to dinner I squeezed in a workout, requiring my hair to be in a ponytail. This, as usual, made my hair all flat and icky and yuck.
Generally, if I have to go out in public and my hair has gotten all flat and icky and yuck, but I don’t have time to wash it and make it pretty from scratch, I will just get it wet and let it dry. Most of the time a little water makes my curls bounce back. Sort of. I call this “reconstituted hair.”
Let it be known that reconstituted hair is never as good as freshly washed, moussed and diffused dry hair. Trust me. I know these things. It’s just not.
Since I had already washed my hair that day and I was pressed for time, I decided to go the reconstituted hair route when getting ready to leave. And wouldn’t you know it? I had a couple of curls by my face that did not respond well to the reconstitution. Of course. But I needed to get out the door, so I couldn’t waste any more time trying to get them to behave. I had to take a deep breath and let it go.
But I couldn’t let it go. I knew they were flat. It was all I could think about. Pesky curls. Pesky obsession with hair.
The curls were actually mocking me. Flat hair…flat hair…flat hair…flat hair. A little, curly, blonde taunt. Flat hair…flat hair…flat hair!
This had to stop. So in the car on the way I thought I would just use a little water from my water bottle to get the curls wet and let them dry and unflatten while I drove.
The one slight problem with this plan is that I have a “spill proof” water bottle that I can only get water out of by pinching the nipple top with my teeth while I suck the water through the straw. (I’m guessing I’ll get a whole new readership with that last sentence.)
To get around this small obstacle and successfully wet my obstinate curls in order to stop the merciless taunting, I had to suck out some water and spit it into my hand and then scrunch it into my hair. While stopped at a light…in a car that does not have tinted windows.
Yep. You can picture it. There’s me, sitting in traffic, hunched over and SPITTING IN MY HAIR.
Why?
Because I’m an idiot.
(It worked though.)
Episode 3 “An Idiot’s Guide to Twitter”
Posted on February 18th, 2009
The beauty of Twitter is that they’ll let any idiot with an internet connection and the ability to come up with a username and password have a Twitter account. Believe it or not, I actually have one. And I can still remember how to log in to it.
Since I’m an idiot with an agenda, it seems like this is the perfect time to post an episode about idiotic best practices on Twitter. I mean, what better way to get people to click through to my show than by posting something that says “Twitter” in it about a hundred times? (Posting nude photos is right out, so don’t even suggest it.)
And so, since idiots need help with new media as much as d-bags do, here are this idiot’s 12 basic insights into how to use Twitter:
1. Come up with a really creative Twitter name. I put a lot of thought into what my handle would be. I wanted it to really express who I am while being catchy and easy to recall. After much deliberation, I came up with Kathy_L. It’s clear, I can remember it and the underscore pretty much drives people crazy. It’s perfect, I know.
2. Be interesting. I share every part of my life on Twitter. People want to know what you are doing, as long as it can be described in 140 characters or less, of course. If I’m getting the mail, the world knows about it. If I feel a little sleepy, the world knows about it. When I forget what I went downstairs for, the world knows about it. Once, I even tweeted from the bathroom. This is very fascinating stuff. I mean, can nearly 500 followers be wrong?
3. Tweet incessantly. You won’t seem interesting if nobody hears from you. Try posting several tweets in a row. Make sure you reply to everyone about everything, even if you really have nothing to add. You could just repeat what other people are tweeting. I’ve been on Twitter for less than a year and I have amassed a dazzling collection of 5760 updates. Each one of them a gem. If you aren’t tweeting 20 times a day, you aren’t trying hard enough.
4. Always tweet about your pets. People love to hear about your pets. You know it. You’ve seen it at parties when you tell stories about your pets’ adventures. Those eyes aren’t glazing over, they’re tearing up from the stifled internal laughter. Pets are cute. People like cute. Who doesn’t want to hear about where little Fluffy horked up a hairball or if Muffin doesn’t feel like pooing right now? And I can assure you that everyone loves a good pic of sleeping cats.
5. Tweet about what you are eating or what you are getting ready to eat. (But don’t get food in your keyboard.) If you’ve already gotten your mail, been to the bathroom, figured out what you went downstairs for and discussed your pets, this kind of tweet will keep you on the 20 per day track. Food is very interesting. Why else would there be an entire network dedicated to it on cable? So, get out your spork and tweet away. (Right now I’m sucking some dried jelly from the front of my blue sweater, by the way.)
6. Be easily annoyed by just about everything. Is it too hot where you are? Too cold? Chair too soft? Windows doesn’t load fast enough? Hands covered in glitter from picking out greeting cards? Aretha Franklin wear your Easter hat to the Inauguration and now you have to go find another one?! Tweet it. Maybe even start a blog. Be annoyed and the world will be annoyed with you.
7. Make a lot of misteaks. It’s endearing and makes you seem real. Accidentally tweet something that is meant to be a direct message, especially if it’s your mobile phone number. Go over 140 characters, and make sure the punch line is included in characters 141-153. Spell thinks wrong whilst you try to sound smart. These are precisely the errors I make on a regular basis and I was voted Iowa’s best Twitterer.
8. Ask about the lingo. Don’t worry. We were all newbs once. Make sure you tweet your questions about FTW and RT and what the @ is for and what the # is for and how to find the link to a single tweet. The Twitter collective is happy to help. (And when you get the answers, please tell me what they are. I’m at a total loss here.)
9. Get your mom on Twitter. Seriously. It is so much more fun to tweet about the borderline illegal things you did while sipping malted bevvies last Saturday when you know your mom is going to read it. It is so much more fulfilling for your friends to post pics of you sticking your tongue on things when you know your mom will see them. And making wisecracks about your family is so much more effective when your mom is likely to actually read them. I’m telling you, you know it’s a good tweet when it ends with “Sorry, Mom.” (Sorry, Mom.)
10. You must absolutely employ the Rick Roll. I cannot say this enough. People are not sick of this. You will be loved by all of your followers when you trick them into clicking what appears to be an interesting link to a wacky news story or a new kind of blanket or cute pictures of animals, but when clicked, it leads to our favorite big haired, big voiced rock legend. Rick Roll tweets always get favorited. I know I’m never going to give them up.
11. Blog about Twitter. Do this and you will be on the cutting edge of the new media blogosphere. Also, this is really the only way to get people to visit your blog. You don’t even have to try that hard. I didn’t. Just type the word “Twitter” a whole bunch of times and then post it. It works. I promise.
12. I couldn’t come up with a #12, so: Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter Twitter
And there you have it. 12 easy steps to being an idiot like me on Twitter.
I can see my Google Analytics score going through the roof now. You’ll know when it does, because I’ll be sure to tweet about it. Right after I tweet about how well my jeans fit.
Why?
Because I’m a Twidiot.
Episode 2 “Idiots Can’t Write Blogs”
Posted on February 18th, 2009
What was I thinking? I can’t write a blog. Half the time, I have a hard time writing a check.
I have a brilliant blog post in my head about how an idiot uses Twitter, but I can’t get it out. I’m standing at the door with a treat in my hand, but it just won’t venture into the daylight. I’m tugging on the leash as hard as I can, but it’s just leaving claw marks on the hardwood floor.
I could go on all day with this analogy, but you get the picture.
How can I write a blog?
I’m an idiot.
Maybe I’ll just post funny pictures of cats and write cute capshunz for them. At least I know that hasn’t been done before.
Pilot Episode “Say Cheese (but don’t eat it)”
Posted on February 13th, 2009
At last, the moment I’ve all been waiting for, the global release of Kathy Landin’s I’m An Idiot Show. Because there’s no reason the entire world shouldn’t be laughing at me.
So here’s the deal, I’m an idiot. I try not to be, but it seems as though it is unavoidable. The harder I try, the more ridiculous I become.
Here’s an example.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to my favorite locally owned grocery store to purchase various and sundry food items. This is something I do regularly and I have gotten quite good at it, if I do say so myself. Which I just did.
The following Thursday, yes a full four days later, I noticed that the FIVE DOLLAR package of sliced American cheese I purchased was not in the cheese bin in my refrigerator where it belongs. (I love cheese, so naturally I have an entire drawer dedicated to it in the fridge. “Cheese, this drawer’s for you.”)
This disturbed me. Where was the cheese? Did I leave it in the cart when I checked out? Did it get scanned but not make it into my bag? Did it fall out somewhere? Had I purchased some strange new kind of invisible cheese?!
This continued to be a dairy mystery of cheese proportions for a few more days, until the next Monday when I once again made my way to the grocery store for more food. (I eat a lot. Don’t judge me.)
I did my shopping, begrudgingly picked up another package of cheese, made my purchase and headed out to my trusty automobile. I opened the hatchback and there, low and behold, as if to mock me, was an untouched package of sliced American cheese. Where it had been sitting for a week.
That’s right, I had left my cheese in the car for a week.
I’m an idiot.
Here’s the best part. Because I’m a miserly old spinster and I hate seeing food and money go to waste, I actually considered keeping the cheese. I pondered the amount of preservatives in the cheese and the relative temperature of the last week. I sniffed the packaging. I examined the product for green spots. And finally, I looked around to see if anyone was watching and started to open it up to take a taste.
At the last moment, a synapse fired and I decided it was probably best to throw the cheese away and let $5 be the cost of my idiocy this time.
Because really, there’s nothing worse than an idiot trying to pass dairy that has been compromised. You know how I know this?
Because I’m an idiot.
