WORD ALERT MALFUNCTION‼️

Apparently I’m as “out of touch” as ever!

My friend Robi told me I had been using the term “Millennial” incorrectly all this time.

I thought it meant “people born after the Millenium,” aka: anyone 21 and under.

Though Robi couldn’t tell me what a Millennial actually is (”older” was his one-word explanation), could you save me the effort of having to go back and swap out “Millenials” for “teenagers” and just retrofit all of my comments about them in your brains?

And could someone do me a solid and let me know what people born after 2000 are called?

I make a big enough ass out of myself without “Semantics issues” increasing my public humiliation.

Thank you in advance❣️

[Thank you Sigmund for the use of your photograph].❤️

Jennifer, The Multimedian

My Introductory Post on Instagram:

MY INTENTIONS HERE

I tend to censor myself on Facebook because, in my head, I’m certain “Everyone” thinks I’m having a nervous breakdown when I attempt to express myself creatively. Maybe it’s because my mother and I share 107 Facebook friends? Or because Family Members and many Friends Since 8th Grade are there?
It doesn’t really matter since the problem is my own.

To tackle it, about 3 months ago, I started expressing myself emotionally on a [Wordpress] blog and physically, through Karaoke, on my [YouTube] channel…of 20 wonderful followers❣️

Both have been anonymous enough for me to feel free to put words to (writing)- and then exorcise (publishing)- the vicious lies and hateful slurs I didn’t even realize I was telling myself. Since forever.

I’m incredibly grateful to these social media platforms for helping me to rediscover my voice. By providing me with therapeutic outlets for energy and conversations too long suppressed, they’ve served as my freedom fighters, rescuers, and liberators.

So please, Friends, here on Instagram (where I’m a total newbie): if you know me personally, know my family, or have known me a long time, don’t judge me by the words I write. Sharing openly and honestly is a life-preserving activity for me. If I don’t do it, my body makes cancer. And I really don’t want to die! For the first time in a long time, I want to stick around. I’m having so much fun, and I feel like I have cried enough. I’m getting really tired of these tears, my Friends❣️

Please extend me the benefit of the doubt and don’t make any assumptions from my words. Some of my angriest ones could be directed at a disease or a traumatic experience.

I want and need to be my most authentic self for what’s left of This Journey. Having gotten a taste of it, I want to actually BE Jennifer instead of play her on TV. I just can’t play the “role you never knew I was playing” anymore❣️

#socialmedia #selfexpression #honesty #transparency #authentic #authenticity #facebook #conversation #creativewriting #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #womensupportingwomen #women #mentalhealth #breastcancer #traumahealing #vulnerability

With The Back of My Hand:

Or, “A Hannibal Kind of Lust”

—————————

I love you so much that

I’d like to Eat You Alive.

And then wipe your blood off of my mouth

with the back of my hand

that still has

chunks of your hair and scalp

threaded through my fingers.

And later,

after I burp up your digestive juices,

I’ll sleep more soundly

than I ever have before.

—————————

Photo credit: Catalin Pop. Thank you!

•Miss SmartyHearts and Miss LonelyPants•

Effective immediately: I have officially “put out a shingle” with my latest career effort. Since it won’t bring in a dime, my motivation may be inconsistent, but I’m wiling to put my best foot forward…at least initially.

I have officially begun an “Agony Advice”/“Miss Lonelyhearts”/“Dr. Ruth”/“Erma Bombeck”/“Miss [Dating and Relationship] Manners” column which will be penned by two contributors: Miss SmartyHearts (for natters of the heart) and Miss LonelyPants (for matters of the body).

I’m advising you in advance that this advice of which I will be advising you will be from an unequally rare and rarefied point of view: that of a once-highly intelligent, well-travelled and -educated woman who is now equal parts:

1) Old, 2) Out of Touch, and 3) Immature.

But with good hair & nails and a lovely complexion (if I do say so myself). And of course, a winning enthusiasm and eagerness to advise you of my advice to your queries!

On the rare occasion I do not feel qualified to answer your question with my personal wisdom alone, I will conduct primary research in the form of: first person interviews, mall/bar/date/karaoke “intercepts,” video surveillance, long and irritating telephone surveys, and if necessary, “transferential experience.

TE (copywrite) is a technique I developed after many years of serving in my capacity as a highly-esteemed market research professional (actually one of the best in the business, just ask 3 people I knew in 1996).

TE basically means: if all else fails, and I still don’t know the answer: I will go find out for myself!

And then share My Lessons Learned with all of my Beloved Readers! Because I possess bountiful generosity. Which will drive my desire to provide you with my best advice birthed from 1) my experiences, told from my 2) [again] uniquely qualified, broken down perspective. Always with my signature spunk and stubborn unwillingness to learn from my mistakes❣️

So, feel free to start addressing your queries regarding “matters of the heart” to Miss SmartyHeart and matters of the physical body to Miss Lonelypants (who will try to draw from her long-term memory, so no promises about anatomical accuracy). I only ask that you specify in the Re: line which Expert Miss is the recipient for your inquiry (because these can easily get blurred, difficult to read, and then who knows what kind of answer you’ll get?)

The Misses are also a bit jealous of each other, so if you have a preference, you should ask. If not, those old harpies might both answer your questions!]

And I’ve got to advise you of one last bit of advice:

Begin submitting your burning questions immediately because Miss SmartyHearts and Miss LonelyPants could begin sending letters to each other; and I honestly can’t predict what that might look like.

So you’ve been warned. And, my pledge: I will always bring my 💯 % authentic self and former work ethic to this incredibly humbling responsibility I am agreeing to undertake on your behalf.

Lastly: MEN❣️ You are also welcome to write to the Misses with your burning queries. I will change all names to protect the innocentboth yours, my beloved readers, and all research assistants, interviewees, and participants.

I would suggest you get your money’s worth [especially since it’s free]!

#MissSmartyHeart #MisLonelyPants

Why I Don’t Feel Guilty for Watching True Crime stories

I used to feel guilty about watching true crime stories on TV or listening to true crime podcasts. I think it came down to the idea I was receiving recreational entertainment from the suffering of others.

Then I had an epiphany that upended my views on the topic, and it’s this:

In society we honor the bravery of our survivors, but we do very little to honor the suffering of those who perished.

By the time we read the salacious headlines or hear the horrific details of a mass shooting, child abduction, or [violent, sadistic, evil; all redundant terms] murder, someone has already endured an agonizing death. Alone and Afraid.

I know it sounds weird but I honestly think it honors the victims’ memories when other people listen to how they suffered and feel an infinitesimal amount of their pain.

It’s the closest thing we can do now to holding their hands as they died then. It’s not a religious thing, it’s a “compassion for the victims and their families” thing.

So I never feel guilty for watching true crime shows: it helps me do my humanitarian duty to the souls who were forced to depart early.

#RIP, Heaven’s Favorites.

Maybe I’m not going crazy after all

In spite of the fact I owe Spotify an apology and in fact am not the devil, I have been contemplating all things insanity and the ways it might manifest in later life. I started searching for an overview of the early warning signs over on YouTube (where I have been getting in fights lately!! Even instigating them!!)

Anyway, since I have A.D.D., I had to stop to get in a few good fights over on the true crime channels. Side note: I usually am the most vociferous judge of the “evil psychopaths” and poor innocent victims in every story. Wouldn’t they just love to know that the snarky bitch who calls herself “Karaoke Konnection” blabs about her own inner evil over in WordPressLand!!??

So again, I got sidetracked. Side note number two: why do I always get sidetracked?

Anyhoo, up pops my feed after my “cyber-altercations.” And I feel the Universe must be trying to get me away from all that Cosmic Aggression. Side note number three: it can get really toxic over there, people! You wouldn’t believe the bitchy people who will pick fights with you! But y’all would have been proud of me: I started protecting myself by refusing to allow anyone to ever draw first blood again. So I’m finally sticking up for myself against those cyber-bullies!

Where was I? Oh yes!! So like I felt The Man or The Force pull me out of that pit of vipers and return me to The Light.

By bringing my vision-distorted eyes to the videos about inner healing and, when I really need an ego boost, the Myers-Briggs and Personality Type videos. And the reason they’re all so personally gratifying is no matter when I take them, I always come out as THE COOLEST TYPE! It doesn’t matter which test it is, it literally is a Test I Cannot Fail, so strong is my charisma!

Yes, it can be a burden having to be so exceptionally charming all the time, but I’ve learned to live with it. As all good ENFP-T, Enneagram 4-3s must!

What can I say that isn’t said below? We are the unicorns of which I write and it’s our planet the rest of you inhabit! We just let you lease our space.

By the way, if y’all get directed over to YouTubeVille, tell ‘em Karaoke Konnection sent you. My people will keep an eye out for you.

My Impending Divorce

Dear Spotify:

Did you not read my post yesterday about how You were one of the Last Heroes of Smartphone Integrity in these days of “Technology Rape?”

Simply for allowing us to listen to our music on your app while actually simultaneously DOING SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE, like paying bills on other apps?

You don’t like being a Hero much, do you?

Because, as of this morning, this one quality – this one thing that made you [somewhat] special – is now officially gone. Erased by Hal (of Space Odyssey notoriety, youngsters) during my “download” last night. You know: the one that goes into that Matrix port in my brain while I’m sleeping?

I’d like to think it was an accident, or something silly like “Operator Error.” Only this Operator isn’t stupid and didn’t turn stupid overnight.

Do you honestly think I have nothing better to do than listen to your music while simultaneously staring at your boring static app?

Maybe I don’t really need your answer to that last question. The more egregious fallout of your betrayal is what you’re literally forcing me to do here.

Which is sending me into the cold, hard, made-of-85karat-gold arms of Jeff Bezos. You know that, don’t you? And after I publicly stated he’s been relentlessly pursuing me for the last few months?

I do not want to be embraced by those arms! Maybe by Any Other Living Arms, but not his.

So what was it they did in the Old Testament? I think it was speaking these words out loud:

“I Divorce You, I Divorce You, I Divorce You!”

-Leviticus or one of the other “First Five”

I’m pretty sure witnesses weren’t required, so I’m just providing y’all with a front row seat to my Impending Divorce.

And damnit, but I’ve had to go through a lot of divorces lately! Not to mention the Two Before.

You know the part I hate the most about Divorce? [I am an undisputed expert, so please do listen well]…

It’s all the crap you have to do (or, The Four “F’s”, as I like to call them):

  1. Fucking Pack up all your shit (*see note below)
  2. Find alternate services
  3. Fill out all that godforsaken paperwork – even if it is digital, it still should be done away with under The Paperwork Reduction Act (**see second note)
  4. And probably most importantly: Figure out how to get your needs met by the new guy (***see third note)

*Theres nothing I hate more than assembling those loathsome wardrobe boxes from U-Haul. And you know I’m going to need about 14, you greedy motherfucker! I’d almost stay with you to avoid this whole process, but I’m starting to get ANGRY now, and trust me: nobody needs to see that. So I’m coming for you, Confounding Tape Dispenser with Teeth! We’re about to renew our relationship.

**Why doesn’t The Paperwork Reduction Act address Paperwork In General? Because it’s high time we got rid of it all! Collectively decided to wipe it from The Face of The Earth! I’ll even use my monthly $10.81 (x 60 months, don’t lose sight of that!) Spotify payment to contribute to that cause.

***Regarding #4: Really? Next to assembling wardrobe boxes, you know how I despise breaking in a “new guy.” After years of cultivating playlists that actually have personal significance to me, you’re forcing me to do it all over again. With a newbie.

I just don’t get it, Spotify. Other than that one time in 2018, did I ever miss a payment? No, I did not. So then…Why? Because you know what? I was actually thankful for the Music you brought into my Toneless Life. I enjoyed adding a soundtrack to my daily life. I even enjoyed that karaoke playlist that I used to prepare for my shitty little performances. Maudlin of me, I know.

Besides, how can I put on a decent performance if I can’t look at the lyrics from Jeff’s sight while listening to said songs? As a matter of fact: your petty jealousy is preventing me from realizing my dreams of becoming The Next Karaoke Sensation. I will personally blame you if my dreams [so fresh and new after having none for so long] never reach fruition.

I thought you loved me, but you just married me for my money.

The truth hurts, but I can’t live with all of you ruthless capitalists anymore! I’m going to join a fringe group like the Peace Corps or something equally radical because like I said: I’m really starting to get pissed off here.

Did I not just advise you to Never Underestimate Me?

What’s that expression again?

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

-Not sure

Well, can I just say that this woman is feeling both scorned and furious right now?

So if you’ve done me wrong, I suggest you start implementing counter-surveillance maneuvers and change your locks. Also, you might want to park that Ferrari somewhere with controlled access. I know you’ll just get it fixed, but my keys are really sharp and I can’t help that they start vibrating in my hand when I see your fleet of luxury automobiles in my pot-hole-riddled parking lot.

Please Come to Austin…

Let me tell y’all a little something about Austin, Texas. It’s sure changed a hell of a lot since I was a young college student between the years of 1984 and 1987.

It is now a big mega-hub for the Lone Star State (who I can criticize because I was born in Austin in 196X (it’s a very high number, rest assured). The reason is because we’re whoring ourselves to bring jobs to the state, and we dangled some pretty shiny baubles to make ELON swoon and bring his crew here. And don’t forget the Venerable Joe Rogan’s “studio” is here. Well, technically about 70 miles North of here -as the crow flies.

Anyway, let’s just say that God reached down and kissed me by letting me live in Austin the three and a half years I did. You can see a photo of me with my former roommate (now a highly respected doctor) in our 3-bedroom house we rented for $600 a month. I’m willing to account for inflation, but what’s happening in Austin is very sad. The people from California moving here got way more money when selling their houses there than they cost in Austin, driving prices to unaffordable levels for the locals. This has had a spillover effect on rental prices as well. My friend Julie has been a colorful regular Austin character for 35 years, having waited tables at virtually every restaurant in that town! Oops, sorry, I forgot it’s not a town anymore.

Well, Julie can no longer pay her rent on the hovel she shares with an abusive man since they just raised it from $900/month to $1400/month. After 8 years of tenancy. But when I write about what’s going on in Austin on LinkedIn, nobody “likes” what I have to say. Side note: LinkedIn isn’t very ENFP-friendly. Things can get pretty artificial over there, so I prefer it over here when I feel like I need to express myself. Thanks again, Readers❣️

Anyway, right wrong or indifferent, I got my stimulus check and immediately booked an Airbnb for the month of July in Austin. I hadn’t really spent any time up there in so many decades, and I needed to get away for a while. You feel me? July 2021…Quarantine…with my elderly parents…need I say more?

So… I boarded my ghetto Maltipoo, Cooper, into my 2007 slothmobile and we headed up to Austin on July 1st, 2021. We got ourselves into some “misadventures” up there in that “supremely cool,” Live Music Capitol of the United States of America.

Now the details aren’t as salacious as my COLLEGE years, but if you want to hear about Austin, you have to tell me. This is SOCIAL media, after all❣️ If ONE PERSON says they want to hear what happened in Austin, I’ll tell you.

Otherwise: what happened in Austin STAYS in Austin.

Why Do Women?

Why do WOMEN:

- [ ] Spend a small fortune on cosmetics, camouflaging our natural beauty?
- [ ] Spend a large fortune on gyms, diets, and whatever undergarments are necessary so that we can tolerate looking at ourselves in the mirror?
- [ ] Get big brown caterpillars tattooed onto our eyebrows?
- [ ] Wear false eyelashes (including the magnetic type which literally burns our eyeballs?)
- [ ] Inject Botulinum Toxin into our faces to “blur” the wrinkles?
- [ ] Inject Dermal fillers to “plump back up” the natural baby fat we’ve lost in our cheeks and our lips?
- [ ] Pay for professional facials, microdermabrasion treatments, laser skin refinement, eyebrow lifts, breast implants, tummy tucks, and other forms of cosmetic enhancement?
- [ ] Spend up to $100 per month getting hair removed from the places deemed “un-hair-worthy” in 2021?
- [ ] Think we need, purchase books about, and then relentlessly execute vagina-tightening and/or vagina-loosening exercises, depending on the way we personally feel insufficient (and by aged 54, we only have two options: the droopy post-childbirth vagina and the dried-up, post-menopausal vagina: if I’ve failed to consider a third option, by all means please do let me know below).
- [ ] Suffer the indignity of the stirrups in middle age to get prescriptions for hormones we no longer produce, some of which can be very dangerous to us, in order to be “as feminine as possible”?
- [ ] Get therapy to process our issues because the last thing we ever want to do is to HURT SOMEONE ELSE?
- [ ] Immediately blame ourselves if anything goes wrong in one of our friendships or romantic relationships?
- [ ] NOT tell the whole world how smart we actually ARE? As in: all day long?
- [ ] Not say what we’re really thinking (example: “It actually scares me how much I’m dumbing myself down to be with you”)?
- [ ] Stick around in abusive, unfulfilling, unsatisfying, and/or unsupportive long-term relationships, all the while buying books like “How to Be Present for Your Partner’s Inner Child” and “How To Be Smoking Hot in The Bedroom”?
- [ ] Feel compelled to share our failures, catalogue our flaws, and admit to our shortcomings?

When MEN:

- [ ] Will gladly repeat that list of failures to us, lest we forget it,
- [ ] Won’t get therapy, and
- [ ] Won’t even consider getting a prescription for Viagra?

No wonder these new generations of women are going “Rogue Lesbian”: if you don’t have something to bring to the party, well… it’s a really boring party, okay? And I’m REALLY tired of pretending like it’s not and then blaming MYSELF for the fact that YOUR PARTY IS BORING!!

AN OPEN LETTER FROM ONE GENEX WOMAN TO MILLENNIAL WOMEN:We’re not irrelevant!

I’m getting a little tired of the attitude I feel coming from some younger people today on social media. There seems to be a general dismissal of the comments and opinions of the over-25 set, particularly on YouTube (don’t get upset, Facebook friends!). One woman in her 40s or thereabouts made an enthusiastic comment about a music video, and some snarky girls made fun of her and referred to her as “Mom.” I’d like to remind similar-minded young women that GenEx women (those born between 1965 and ?), though older, still have dreams and passions; feelings, hopes, and fears.

We also grew up during a time that made us badasses.

We were bullied when the problem wasn’t even acknowledged and sexually molested when there wasn’t a word for it. We’ve been “sexually harassed” in the workplace for centuries, usually making excuses for the inappropriate behavior ourselves, reluctant to cause problems for our bosses (because we were raised to be “nice”). We’ve had our cars break down when we were alone in the dark with no mobile phones – and nothing to protect us but our wits – not just once but multiple times. We were date-raped before there was a word for that, too. I’m sure coming out as a non-heterosexual was scary and lonely and terrifying. When we miscarried, no one ever talked about it and the “embryos” we lost didn’t “count.” We surely didn’t get to memorialize them in any significant way. We paved the way for you with our own tears, traumas and stories. So if I ask you to treat us with a little respect – maybe occasionally ask for our opinions – will I be accused of being a “Karen?”