Secret Identities

Dear Everyone:

I love writing blog posts for you! I enjoy writing them and I enjoy knowing that you read them and appreciate them. And even if you don't appreciate them, I like pretending that you do, and since you're on the internet, there's no way to prove otherwise!

One of the best and most rewarding things about blogging is receiving feedback from my readers. When I hear back from people that read my blog, I know that people are thinking about something that I've put out there, and people are hearing what I'm saying.

One of the most common ways people give feedback for my words and/or drawings is by commenting on Facebook, but occasionally there are a select few who will comment directly on the post, which I appreciate because then your words get to join my words on the internet, and my post becomes a conversation.

However.

This is where you leave a comment on my blog. I'm sure you've all seen it before when you finish reading a blog post and you're wiping tears of delight from your eyes.

The default setting to leave a comment, if you're logged into a Google account, is to comment under your Google profile.

You will note, however, that the list of options for commenting on my blog include one called "Name/URL" second from the bottom, in case you don't have any of those other accounts. If you select this option, it will bring up a little typey place where you can type your name. 

Do that.

The last option on the list is "Anonymous." 

Don't do that.

Here's why...

I've gotten a few anonymous comments on my blog in the past, and I love reading them as much as any other comments, but the thing is... I don't know who they're from. So I have a little bit of a hard time interpreting them.

For instance:

My reaction to the comment "Your blog totally changed my life. Thanks for writing it. = ) Love ya!" differs pretty greatly depending on who wrote it.

I tend to lean toward feeling flattered, because that seems like a natural assumption.

But there are different assumptions that can be made based on who left the comment.

Another example comes from my post about my delightful little book that I have (that I really haven't been posting stuff from like I said I would, apologies.)

A reader or couple of readers commented and said "I'll take twelve..." and "I'll do you one better... THIRTEEN please!"

The problem is, since these posts were anonymous, how will I know who to give all those books to once I become a famous published author? I'll just be signing hundreds of decorative leaf-pressers for my own self.

And for the most difficult example of anonymous posts, there were a group of comments recently left on a bunch of my posts by an anonymous troll!

This one says "If I eat an earth worm, will I die?"

Of course, being the awesome blog-tainer that I am, I replied with a witty retort. But since the post was anonymous, how could I possible know who to find and kick? 

The good news is, this blog-troll came forward and received his rightful kicking, and all is right in the world again. 

But every day, millions if not one commenter goes without their rightful appreciation because I don't know who to appreciate! I'm not saying that you absolutely can't leave an anonymous comment on my blog. If you're that concerned about being found out, or if you're in Witness Protection on something, then by all means, leave an anonymous comment. 

But if you're my friend or neighbor or stalker, then just take the extra second to let me know, so I can know whether to be touched or horrified. 

Thank you. Love you.

--Jackie

(see what I did there?)

Just... Ugh

Yes, I'm still sick. Yes, I tried to write a real person post. No, it didn't work. I drew lots of pictures and wrote a bunch of words and it just didn't come together. It was just a hot mess, and I have too much pride to post substandard material! I have a reputation to maintain.

In other news, Breaking Bad, am I right? And iOS7 is a thing I suppose, but it's all about Android if you ask me. Plus, the U beat BYU in sportsball, so that happened too.

I'm tired and I don't feel well.

Internet.

Sick Day

Sad Irony Comics

Once upon a time just now, I drew this at work while pretending to be productive but actually just dying of a fast-acting illness.
Please don't judge my drawings, sickness lowers my standards for perfection.

We Are Famous!

Who has two thumbs and is totally almost on the way to internet-famous? 

Not Nigel! Hamsters only have four fingers on their front paws. Although we're now featured on Alltop.com under the Humor category. So that's cool too.

I Am Talented

I've always been kind of disappointed that I wasn't the best at something...

I mean, obviously everyone can't always be the best because it takes mediocrity to offset excellence, but it wouldn't hurt to be at least kind of awesome at something.

I can draw alright, and I'm okay at writing words and stuff. And I've played piano for a long time, but I don't really play well enough to ever accompany anyone or perform in front of people. I can cook adequate food, and I have passable sewing skills, but I could never be an expert chef or seamstress. 

Recently, however, I realized that to be the best at something, I just need to invent my own thing to be the best at! 

I recently discovered a unique talent that I'm certain will get me far in this life...

I'm sure you all know what onomatopoeia is. In case you didn't, here is a refresher course:

on·o·mat·o·poe·ia

  [on-uh-mat-uh-pee-uh, ‐mah-tuh‐]

noun

1.

the formation of a word, as cuckoo, meow, honk,  or boom,  by imitation of a sound made by or associated with its referent.

Onomatopoetry is a new form of art invented by me, and the leading artist in the field is, of course, me. Someday I will become super fancy and rich and have gallery showings of framed works, and people will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for one of my pieces, so you will definitely want to remember this post. It's going to go down in history. The Wikipedia article about me will probably refer to this post in the section under "Early Works." 

(Fun fact, if you search Wikipedia for "Jackie Winsor" you will find a professional artist, but it's not me.)

So, without further ado, here are some of my latest works of onomatopoetry, in no particular order.

I know you're all thinking "Why is there a puma in your Stow-and-Go?" 

This is my original work of onomatopoetry, and it was based on a conversation I had with my father at work after he lost his cake platter.  (Comments in brackets added after the fact.)

Father: So is that your cake plate down in the break room, or is it mine?

Me: That's mine, haha.

Father: Or is it?

I mean, what cake plate?

Me: Gasp!

I feel like...

When was the last time you used it?

It was for donuts, right?

Father: Yeah, I think so.

Me: It's definitely in Rachel's room. Yup.

Father: Yeah, I suspected.

Me: Or in Bingley's [the van's] vast storage crevasses. 

Father: Uh...

Me: Wherein lurk many pumas. [if you don't get this joke, watch this video]

Father: I thought I heard noises last time I drove Bingley.

Me: Were they "row-ROWR!" noises?

Because that's what pumas sound like.

Not cake plates, though.

Father: I don't remember ever getting pumas and cake plates mixed up. That could be dangerous, you know.

Me: "There are some cupcakes right over there on the AAAAH!"

Father: Exactly. Worst kids' birthday party ever.

Also, I must compliment you on your phonetic spelling of a puma roar. I can totally hear it.

Me: (takes bow)

I'm a professional onomatopoet. 

Father: I... you... cool!

This work was inspired this summertime while watching the fireworks with some friends, and a woman parked near us had a stupid car. She eventually tried to turn it off, but that just made the car alarm go off for realsies, and we about had to shut it off with all the crowbars and golf clubs I keep in my trunk for emergencies.

Bullying is never acceptable, and it breaks my heart to watch defenseless underdogs have their authority stomped upon by someone or someones that think they're better just because they're bigger or louder or wealthier. Determined to stop the bullying, I described to my mother in detail the montage of me teaching someone to be tough, and thus was created this work of art.

This one just happened. And I was inspired.

There you have it, folks! The first work in what I hope will become a rather large collection of famous art. If you witnessed (or heard) something inspiring or remarkable, let me know and I will definitely compose a custom work of art for you.

Since I'm not quite famous yet, bidding starts at only $12,000. 

The Hamster is a Metaphor

The other day, someone said to me...

At first I wasn't sure how to respond, because in all honesty, I haven't really thought about it a ton. I mean, right now I answer phones and emails and sit in a cubicle and doodle on post-it notes all day.

It's not exactly something you dream about as a child, although secretly I always thought it would be awesome to have my own cubicle with one of those cat posters...

I don't know how I made it this far without deciding on a dream job, but I honestly never have thought to myself, "All I want out of life is to be a... figure skater. Or something."

But of course, you can't just say that you don't have aspirations when someone asks you a question like that, so I said what came to my head first.

"Well obviously I'd just want my blog to start making tons of money so I could sit around in my house and draw cartoon picture drawings all day and not have to wear pants."

Seems like a good answer to me, right? Because who wants to wear pants, really. 

"It's been done before," I said, "There are people out there that make enough money from ad revenue and merchandise sales that they never have to wear pants EVER!"

And then someone else said...

"Yeah, but those people write about things that people want to read about. You'd never make any sort of money off your blog..."

"Whatever!" I said, "You don't know!" I said.

Because really...

This blog is kinda the only thing I have in my life right now that I'm proud of.

I mean, I'm proud of my husband and his accomplishments, and I'm proud of my family and friends and all the awesome things that they do and the choices they make and the goals they achieve. 

But do you know what I do in my life? 

I go to work. 

I answer phones, I type emails, I copy and paste until my hands start to cramp up. And I work hard and I do well and I feel good about the work that I do, but in the end... all I've done is a lot of drone work. I enjoy helping people, and I save all the "thank you" emails I receive, but at the same time I don't feel like I've really changed someone's life or anything. 

I go home.

I wash dishes, I go grocery shopping, I clean the apartment, I cook dinner, I pay bills, I do laundry, I watch television. These are all important things and I work hard at them and I feel good when I do them, but when it comes down to it... these are just things I have to do to survive and maintain a household. I do them because they need to be done, and I'm the one to do them.

I even play in the marching band.

But I just play chords on a keyboard. I push a couple buttons. If I weren't there to play, someone else could push the buttons and no one would know the difference. As long as the buttons get pushed, it doesn't matter who's pushing them.

But I have this blog.

I don't have hamsters to keep me company while I'm home alone anymore, but there will always be the hamster in my life.

And do you know why?

Because the hamster is a METAPHOR.

This blog is

NOT

ABOUT

HAMSTERS.

It says it right there at the top of the page.  "ALSO SOME WORDS ABOUT OTHER THINGS" Learn to read, bro.

This is the one thing in my life that is really, truly mine, and that I can genuinely be proud of. I work hard at this, and when it's done, it's something that exists for the sole purpose of making other people happy. I don't draw out of necessity, I don't write to feed my family, I create things because I want to help other people. 

And maybe it doesn't change your life or inspire you or motivate you to go on to do bigger and better things.

But I know what it's like to not feel good about your life. I know what it feels like to think that everything you do is completely pointless, and you're more or less alone in this world.

And that's why I write this blog. 

It's not my dream job to make tons of money from drawing pictures and writing words, it's my dream job to help people. Even if I don't get paid for it, even if it's not feeding starving children in Africa, even if I'm never famous, even if I don't win a Nobel Peace Prize or have my picture on the front of People Magazine. 

If I can just make one person feel better, just once, then that's what I do this for.

I was going to write a really funny post about my husband, and then I was going to say something about the fact that we've been married for well over a quarter of a year now, and then I was going to tell more humorous stories about weird dreams that I've had...

But this is what came out of my mind.

I like people. I like them a lot. I like you. Even if I don't know you, even if I've openly pronounced my disdain for you. 

I like you because you're a person, and all people deserve to be liked. 

So bring it in, guys.

Yeah, that's it. We're all in this together. It's okay to be who you are, and other inspirational stuff.

So screw you, guy who said that about my blog. I like what I do.

Hater.