Psst.
So I crawled out of the hole of obscurity (well in the blogosphere anyway). There are no real excuses except for plain ol' "I got busy with life." Seriously, it has been a madhouse with the film festival I was working on and now that I've laid it to rest, here I am. Back on the blog. With my thoughts. Well, my words really. As I age, I find that I keep my thoughts bottled up in a nice little jar, labeled 'Open At Your Own Risk'.
See, I've never been super opinionated. I'm the queen of diplomacy. If there was fence to sit on, you'd find me right on it, in my pink shoes, going "Damn this fence is a pain in the ass." Literally. You probably wouldn't come to me for a heated opinion on something. More likely, I'd be more concerned about not pissing anyone off. Over the years, I know this is both good and bad. But I'm at peace with who I am so it's all good.
I'm all for social media. Twitter. Facebook. Instagram (though I can't quite see the point of Keek). And if there ever was a place to listen to people rant, rave, celebrate, humiliate or just be plain nasty, social media would be it. I used to put plenty of my thoughts and opinions on Facebook (and yes, sometimes I still do the occasional bitch about clients from hell or bad service - i have to release it SOMEwhere) but these days, I try to reel it all it before my fingers start molesting the keyboard. There are so many statuses that get my knickers in a crazy lambada twist but when temptation arrives, just keep scrolling. Until you reach a picture of a puppy rolling in the grass. Aww. *click LIKE*.
I am not holier than thou. Nor do I think my opinion outranks the rest of the world. My plain and simple reason for just watching from the sidelines of this crazy-ass social media circus is to avoid the drama. I am 34 years old. The only drama I want at this point are crazy dance moms and an overzealous dance teacher making little girls cry on cable TV. (In my opinion, Abby Lee needs Xanax. Like lots of it).
I know people like me are considered so lame. The by-standers who just shrug their shoulders, who want no blood on their hands and have a 'it wasn't me' neon sign flashing above their heads. How can the world EVER change from its shitty disposition with people like you, you ask? This is how I see it. I'm not one to fuel the fires of negativity. If it's something positive, great, I'm all for it. I'll be parading with bells on my tits, going, "SOKONG SOKONG!" (which means 'I support').
But If I have nothing nice to say, I won't say anything at all. I may not be one to start a revolution anytime soon - but I'm definitely a peacekeeper. And I think that's better than being a shit-stirrer. But things often get ugly when people read this as, 'Melissa is a doormat.'
That's another blog post all together.
