Onward and upwards.

You ever just…run out of money and forget to pause your website, leading to the total annihilation of all the content you created? Gems such as “Which Human From Twilight is Most Likely to Be A Serial Killer,” (prescient, come see Twihard), “How Well Would Each MLB Mascot Protect Me in the Battle Against The White Witch of Narnia,” (precious), and, the one that began it all, “Assigning the Members of New Directions to Their Proper SATB Vocal Parts.”

And next thing you know, you end up in a job that laserbeams your mental health into smithereens, doing Outpatient Therapy (Sam if you’re reading this I miss our sessions and I’m doing fine*), and taking a brand new regime of medication, all while fighting the urge to not fall into your same nonromantic patterns despite your best attempts at water-sign sabotage (more on that later, Jake make sure to link it to that article when you write it).

And then you get some money and buy your website back, only instead it now costs 4,000 dollars and the person on the phone is like “so you’re good to buy it right?” And you’re like “maybe? I mean no, that’d be crazy right? Sorry, I know we’re not supposed to describe things as crazy, but if I’m certifiably crazy can I say it?” And the person on the phone is all “please just buy this website.” And you’re like “can you recover it?” And they say “yes, for the low low price of $400,” which to some of you is pocket change (I run in very fancy circles, as you can tell by my general appearance and communication styles), but to me is, well, an organ.

So instead you buy a new website, adding the word “The” to the front of the old name and running back to the world of run-on sentences read by your mom, brother, and occasional bored coworker (for those who read my articles and took my quizzes know that I love you eternally). I know, run-on sentences are either too ironic or too internet-speak, but here I am doing neither irony or hip-speak (typing all the while like I’m in A Clockwork Orange minus the sex and plus the milk (I drink milk, ok? Sue me. It goes good with cereal and cookies, don’t pretend almond milk is tasty, I’ve had it and I know you’re lying to yourself. You don’t have to like milk, but you need to be real with yourself)).

So now you’re editing (barely) this post, embracing the chaos that is your brain and dancing from one topic to the next. The old website never got me a job, boyfriend, or sponsorship. Will this one? Maybe a writing job, if the writing community suddenly gets super into mad ramblings (I know, mad is an antiquated term for people with barely-functioning mental illness that kept them locked in a sanatorium, and I’m…oh wait, sounds familiar, one ticket to a sanatorium pleas!). Maybe a boyfriend, if I learn to stop having a type (not interested in me). Maybe a sponsorship (probably something problematic. But the radio station I worked for was/is sponsored by Chik-fil-a and once in a while right-wing political ads, so the bar is v low).

But what this new website will get me is…well, let’s find out together. Hands in team. We can do this. We may not win, we may not do well, but we’ll do something. Let’s do something!

So with a revamped logo, new design, a small but mighty crew of friends, a select set of skills that Liam Neeson would say “oh crap” to if I offered them up in Taken, and a raconteur’s rambling sense of prose, we dive into the sea feet first (I never understood diving head first. Still can’t do it. My brain may be my weakest link but it’s also my strongest weapon, so feet first it is). Enjoy the current. Maybe curse and say “should’ve brought a floaty.” And come along for the ride.

*ish