The Wicked Ingénue

Ok, a few things first.

1) I am not Kristen. I am her much less erudite friend Kerry and since today is her birthday, as her gift I graciously offered to write a blog for her. I know. My generosity is overwhelming.

2) I may not be skilled at anything more than tomfoolery, but if there’s one thing I know how to survive, it’s technology. I thank my father, who demanded we build our first computer from scratch. On the kitchen table. In 1981. I’ve had at least one in front of me ever since. And have survived many a fiasco.

3) When the frustrated updates, about the new Facebook homepage started to appear in my feed, along with the countless tech site articles I subscribe to, I realized that normal people (you) do not give a crap about the “Pros and Cons” of the new layout. I immediately recognized the need for a pretentious expert (me) to find a phone booth, transform into a cape wearing, super geek hero and save you from the diabolical clutches and evil scourge of Facebook. Good luck with that.

4) Instead, you get me and I will do my best to give you a few survival tips to get you over the hump and realize that most people like the new layout. Once they figure out where the hell everything was moved.

5) I realize this blog is absurdly long. But remember, it’s not about you. It’s about me and I like to see my words in print. If you want the info, but don’t want to read it right now, here is a printer friendly version:  Print This Post

So with that said, here we go:

Tip #1

Facebook does not care about you.

Please feel free to continue updating your status with frustrated pleas for help. Join all the “I hate the new homepage” groups and fan all the “Bring back the old layout” pages. Just be aware that Facebook is not going to change back. Even if you ask nicely (or hatefully). I’m pretty sure the people who makes these decisions at Facebook spend their days hanging out in conference rooms, congratulating each other on their self-perceived brilliance and their nights shotgunning Pabst Blue Ribbon and seeing who can mix the most tequila into their Miller’s Genuine Draft beer bongs. This is what you need to come to expect from these over-financed frat boys.

Tip #2

Everything moved from the bottom, to the top and left sides.

I’m sure you’ve figured this part out. The trick is to actually click all the links. One of the first “HELP!” messages I got was, “How do I log out?” This is actually a really valid question, since they hid the button. You’re not going to break anything by clicking the Navigation buttons across the top. The “Account” link, in the top right corner, is where they hid a lot of crucial functions. Click it. See what’s there. Change all your privacy settings to Friends Only. Seriously. You have no idea what those kids are sharing with the whole world, at your expense.

Tip #3

Make lists for all your friends.

I hope you’ve heard this one before. If you haven’t, let me say it again: Make lists for all your friends. I know all the excuses. “But pretentious expert, I have SOOOOOOOO many friends and it’s gonna take SOOOOOOO long. Ugh, do I HAAAAVE TOOOO??!” No, you do not have to. But when you finally do, you’ll find Facebook to be exponentially more functional and personal. Instead of having to subject ALL your friends/family/random high school stalkers to your, “What I made for dinner,” update; you can pick your “People who care about what I had for dinner” group and save those of us who still haven’t headed out to Carl’s Jr. from having to drool on our keyboards.

In the upper right corner click:

• Account > Edit Friends
• Look on the left sidebar now and select “All Connections”
• At the top of your connections list, click “Create New List”
• Title your list “People Who Care About My Dinner” (or on a more serious note: Mafia Wars/Farmville Friends)
• Scroll through the list of your friends and click the ones who care.
• Please leave me off the MW/FV lists. Thanks.

Tip #4

Great, now that we have friends lists, what do you do with them?

Well, the lists put us in business and all your true functionality is going to come from that. Did your brand new baby just get his first bath? Did your toddler just use the potty for the first time? Did you just make yourself the bestest sammich in the whole wide world?! Or my personal favorite, Is there a Bangkok job on your wall? Awesome and let me be the first to say congratulations!! In the meantime, you can direct these updates to the specific people who will be even more enthralled than your pretentious, loud mouthed, know-it-all friends (like me).

• At the top of the homepage, click inside the “What’s on your mind?” box
• Lower right corner now has a padlock button:

• Click that button and choose “Customize”
• Under “Make this visible to:” select the “Specific People…” drop down
• Start typing the name of your specific list of people who are going to care

You see where this is going, right? Same thing works for blocking Mr. or Mrs. Comment Humping Profile Stalker who is always the first to let you know how great they think your dinner sounds. (Ya, I apologize for that too. I promise to try and tone it down.)

Tip #5

Reduce the Feed clutter.

Moving right along, we now have options to reduce the clutter of all those people whose updates you really don’t care about (i.e. pretentious internet experts).

• On the left side of the new homepage, under your profile picture, click “Friends”

A drop down appears

• Now click your group, “People whose updates I care about”

YAY! Functionality and reduced . . . crap.

Additionally, in this drop down, is the link “Status Updates.” This is for all of you who are thinking, “Ohh dude, toootally. Man, I REALLY need to make friends lists, dude.” And then you are not actually going to, but want to benefit from reduced clutter anyway. Clicking the “Status Updates” link is the lazy facebooker’s path to clarity. I realize this tip is probably the only one you are going to use, but be advised that you are going to miss all those hilarious videos and compelling articles that I post. It’s a nightmare, I know.

Tip #6

REALLY reduce the Feed clutter.

If there is one other thing I am passionate about, it’s blocking those annoying Facebook applications (i.e. ALL of them).  One way to go about this is by hovering your pointer over an annoying update. The “Hide” option will appear:

Selecting this, will either hide the person, or in the case of applications, give you the option to hide all updates from that app.

I, on the other hand, am way more anti-application than that and I take joy in sharing this passion with you.

Underneath any application update, where it states the time the item was posted, is a clickable link to take you to the application’s Profile Page.

Click that link and resist the urge to Become a Fan. I’m serious. Put down the mouse.
Under the Application’s Profile Picture is a link to “Block Application.”

My list of blocked applications is literally in the hundreds, so as I kid about application updates, please continue to play your games and take your quizzes guilt free, because it’s not annoying me in the least. Added bonus is that by “Blocking” the applications, instead of “Hiding” them, makes me invisible to the applications too. So not only can they not share my profile information with everybody and my mother, *you* can not send me invites either. Ahhh, the application silence is golden.

Tip #7

Stay organized, while still being a friend whore.

Now that we have our super cool and functional friends lists and know how to quiet the feed, be sure to stay organized as you receive all those friend requests from your admirers/stalkers, by adding them to the appropriate list, as you approve every single one of them.

This way you can look cool and popular to all your old high school “friends”, while keeping them from pulling a “Save Image As . . .” on all the hotness of the mirror pics you migrated over from MySpace.

Bonus Tip

This is for you married but “curious” folk.

I have a feeling this is going to come as a surprise to you and you’re going to have about 5 minutes after I post this blog to follow this tip, before everyone else is going to know exactly who I am talking about.

Go to Account > Application Settings

In the drop down next to “Show:” choose “Authorized”
Click the “Profile” link in the “Zoosk” column

Block this Application!
Repeat for all the other dating apps you approved . . . out of curiousity

Again, I’m very serious about this one. I know, I know. You just wanted to see which of your friends are “dating” and what the pool of losers they have to choose from, looks like. I know you are very happy in your marriage . . . because you reposted that update about having a wonderful spouse and all. So frigging block that application because it is currently showing your bright shining face on their VERY PUBLIC list of people using the “#1 dating application on Facebook.”

Again, 5 minutes after this blog goes public, every non-married person who reads this is going to go look and despite the innocence of your curiosity, you’re going to look pretty effing shady, until you follow this tip.

(Parenthetical side tip for the single people. Be gentle when you see your married friends on this list. I’m sure it was just a one time curiosity, but remember that Facebook is run by self obsessed frat boys, who made it easy to peek in on applications like this, but very difficult to remove them. Just share the link to this blog or send it in a private message. And try to refrain from tagging them all personally as you post this to your updates.)

Ok, that’s it for my New Facebook Homepage Survivor’s Tips. There is a vast amount of functionality and convenience to the update, but I think the frat boys were drunk when they rolled it out, because they forgot to a) warn anyone or b)  include any friendly user instructions. Since I know without doubt (because I know everything, of course), that I have not answered all the questions you have, please feel free to use the comments section to ask all of the emergency, “How the hell do I . . . ???” questions that are haunting you. And then share this post on Facebook, so that we can all see less dinner and poopy diaper updates. Unless you care about that sort of thing, of course.

Kerry is a pretentious, self-proclaimed expert on well, everything really. When he’s not hanging out in conference rooms, congratulating his frat boy buddies on their self-perceived brilliance, he’s shotgunning Pabst Blue Ribbon and looking for anyone who wants to compete for who can mix the most tequila into their Miller’s Genuine Draft beer bong. What’d you expect?

With my 28th birthday being tomorrow, I’ve found myself reflecting on birthdays past. More specifically, embarrassing birthdays past. The following are a few of my greatest hits (which others should avoid if at all possible).

1. Drink too much champagne and fall into the Bellagio Lake…while the dancing water show is going off (to Andrea Bocelli’s “Con Te Partiro”).

2. Go to an IMAX show that simulates underwater exploration of the Titanic the morning after consuming six bottles of wine…then upchuck all over your mom’s dashboard.

3. Have your hair catch on fire while blowing out nineteen candles on the cake…and try to put out the flames with Gordon’s Vodka.

4. Hurl while dancing on a table in a nightclub…with your casino executive bosses sitting directly below you.

5. Run across Las Vegas Blvd. without using the crosswalk…in the middle of 45+ mph traffic.

I guess it’s no coincidence that most of these incidents occurred in Vegas, eh? So glad I’ll be bringing in 28 quietly and with a few select people I really care about. It’s still fun to look back and laugh, though.

I’ve been promising to post an update blog about the progress of my memoir, so here it is. If you’re fuzzy on what my book is about or you just found out that I’m indeed writing a book, the following is a brief synopsis. If you’re familiar with the nature of my memoir, feel free to skip to the second half.

* * *

In 1999, I dropped out of high school at age seventeen, ran away from home, hitched a ride to Las Vegas, and moved in with a guy I’d had a one-night stand with (a guy I typically refer to as The Ex). I went to Vegas with nothing – no money, no car, no diploma, no support system (because, you know, I’d written everyone off), no work experience, no relationship experience, no life experience – and I had no idea where to start. After a shock period that lasted three months (I spent most of that time locked in The Ex’s bedroom [which was covered in posters of marijuana leaves and various porn stars] watching “Revenge of the Nerds” over and over and wondering if my parents had figured out where I was [which they didn't. It took them almost four months to discover the truth]), I finally landed a job as a dishwasher in a restaurant on the Strip.

While working at the restaurant, I met a girl who was a dancer in Siegfried and Roy’s show at the Mirage. She encouraged me to send my photo to the talent agency that represented her, which I did, and within a few weeks of doing so I’d landed my first professional dancing gig (belly-dancing at the Aladdin). I worked my way up from there and began to make a name for myself in the Las Vegas entertainment industry. While my career was soaring, my personal life was in the toilet. Not even the toilet – the fucking sewer. The Ex and I had only been together for a few months before he started physically abusing and cheating on me, and I put up with it for a year and a half until I caught him fooling around in our bed. He kicked me out and I had nowhere to go, so a week before the September 11th terrorist attacks, I moved back to California.

But it doesn’t end there. Against my better judgement, I went back to Las Vegas. And that’s when things got really bad.

I went back to dancing, and this time around I got involved in various vices including street drugs, prescription meds, excessive drinking, gambling, and casual sex. Although the abuse and cheating continued (except this time, the cheating was mutual), The Ex and I couldn’t completely stay away from each other. We were on and off constantly, but at this point I had a bevy of men to take care of me whenever we were off. I always ended up going back to him, though. And when I showed up to work drunk and drugged out of my mind one night, fell onstage, injured my knee, was subsequently fired and blackballed in the industry, got evicted from my house, and moved into a motel room, The Ex was the only one who’d have anything to do with me.

During the last year I spent in Vegas, I fell into a deep depression. I landed a job as a cocktail waitress on Fremont Street, and it was like taking a huge step backward. Then, after I was mugged at knifepoint one night after work, I quit that job and spent three months in bed, which was oddly reminiscent of the marijuana and porn star poster days. Throughout my life, writing and books had been my only solace, and I hadn’t written one word or touched a book in years. College crossed my mind often, but I thought my best days were behind me. I felt that the mistakes I’d made were irreversible and that I was doomed to live life in that shitty motel room on Las Vegas Blvd. with a man I’d grown to hate.

On March 30, 2005, The Ex and I were arguing over a phone call I’d received from an ex-lover. It was the worst argument we’d ever had, and unspeakable violence ensued. A neighbor called the cops, and The Ex was arrested. My face looked hideous – bruises and cuts everywhere, black eye, fractured nose – and I had no medical insurance or money to see a doctor. At that point, I was accustomed to being valued solely for my looks, and I’d grown to believe that was the only thing I was good for. With my face being in such bad condition, I was convinced my life was over. And with The Ex in jail, I had complete access to his pain and anti-anxiety medications. I took the remainder of his Xanax pills – I don’t even know how many I swallowed – and fell into a coma on the bathroom floor.

Miraculously (and as you can see), I survived. When I woke up on April 1st, I felt that I’d been given a second shot at life. I know that sounds cliche, but most people who’ve been near death can vouch that this is truly the feeling you have when you come to. I packed up my stuff and returned to L.A., intent on going back to school, writing, and chasing my dreams. With several publications under my belt, a nearly complete manuscript, and college graduation just around the corner, I’d say the chasing is in full force.

* * *

Okay, so that wasn’t so brief. But you have no idea how much of the story I just skipped over. Seriously.

As many of you know, the process of writing this memoir has been difficult for me. The problem has more to do with the emotional/psychological challenges of retelling all of these awful events and less to do with the actual writing itself (although I have struggled quite a bit in regard to the structure and sequence of the story). Not everything about my time in Las Vegas was tragic – I have quite a few good memories as well – but most of the worst things that’ve happened in my life took place there, and I think about those things every day as a result of writing this book. I can’t just sweep them under the rug or put them in the closet like most people do. I mean, I could, but then I couldn’t tell my story with the honesty and integrity it deserves.

And then there’s the fear of making all of these things public. I never imagined I’d share half of the things I’ll be sharing in this book with anyone, let alone the entire world. And once these things are shared, there’s no going back. I will be criticized. I will be ridiculed. I will be used as a scapegoat in certain instances. I’m going to have to be stronger than I ever thought possible.

But then I think about how much good this memoir can do, and that’s what keeps me going. It can open up conversations about things our society doesn’t like to talk about. It can help other young women realize that there’s someone out there who understands the anger, the pain, the loneliness, and the unhappiness they feel and that they can overcome it. I’d like to use whatever success I have with this memoir to be an advocate for causes like domestic violence, addiction, family planning, women’s rights, and countless other things.

So that’s why, no matter how hard it is sometimes, I can’t give up. Therefore, you’ll be happy to hear that I’ll be taking this memoir project to graduate school in the fall, finishing it, and publishing it by the time I earn my MFA. It’s hard to say exactly how much longer it’ll be before you’ll see it in stores or as an e-book, but rest assured I’ll keep you updated. The only major change I have to report is that I’ve decided to condense the memoir into one volume instead of a trilogy as I’d originally planned.

The short of it is that yes, I’m still working on it, yes, it will be published, and yes, I’ll always remember the support you’ve given me during the process. Writers don’t acknowledge this very often, but we are nothing without our readers and supporters, and I want you all to know how much I appreciate your interest and enthusiasm in my work. It means so much.

Check out my guest blog on my friend Jeff Deck’s website in which I discuss Shakespearean puns, the ridiculousness of wearing snow caps and mittens in 70-degree weather, and the degeneration of language in contemporary society.

Click on the picture and allow ol’ WIll to whisk you away:

I heart reality television. My love affair with it began back in ‘96 when I saw an episode of “The Real World: Miami”. It amazed me that those people had the balls to live every second of their life, including their freaking sex lives, on national television. I was too young at the time to realize that these types of programs don’t necessarily reflect reality in every sense of the word, but coming to this realization as an adult hasn’t diminished my fondness for watching everyday people being filmed 24/7. It’s great mindless entertainment, and we all need to be mindlessly entertained from time to time.

I stopped watching “TRW” series several years ago (I grew out of MTV in my early twenties), but my enthusiasm for reality shows remains intact. I’ve since graduated to the Bravo network, and I’m a big fan of several of their programs: “Tabitha’s Salon Takeover”, “Top Chef”, and “Project Runway” (which, sadly, is no more) are among my personal faves. None of them quite compare, however, to my favorite reality show of all time: “The Real Housewives”.

If you aren’t familiar with “TRH”, here’s the gist of it: the lives of five well-to-do women in exclusive areas of the country are chronicled. Thus far, the cities included in the series are Atlanta (my personal fave), New York, New Jersey, Orange County, and Washington D.C. (which debuts sometime this year). Right now, it’s the Orange County gals’ turn, and although I find most of them to be extremely annoying, I’ve been watching the show because I’m from Southern California and it’s neat to see familiar people and places on the show.

One OC gal in particular is in the news (well, gossip columns, I should say) quite frequently, probably because she’s the youngest, most attractive, and most engaging cast member. Her name is Gretchen Rossi, and she joined the show last season. At that time, she was engaged to a wealthy man who was twenty-five years her senior and who was battling cancer. These facts instantly gave her a reputation for being a gold digger who takes advantage of old men. Her fiance ended up passing away, and rumor has it he left her two million bucks in his will.

Naturally, this didn’t sit well with the other women on the show. They saw it as an Anna Nicole Smith-type situation, and naturally, they began to speak badly of Gretchen. Women can be so cruel, jealous, and hateful toward other women. It just breaks my heart.

First of all, I see nothing wrong with May/December romances. I don’t think love and attraction should or can be relegated to age or other specific qualities. That’s why it cracks me up when people make checklists of what they’re looking for in a mate. So silly.

Second of all, who’s to say that Gretchen manipulated her late fiance into falling for her, spending money on her, and including her in his will? I think this assumption is rather insulting to the fiance. And even if they had some sort of “deal” worked out (i.e., you take care of me personally, I’ll take care of you financially), so what? If both people are consenting, I see no issue. But apparently other people think it is an issue (most likely people who’re unhappy with themselves and with their lives).

So this is what the poor girl is dealing with at the end of the last season. Then, a few months before this current season aired, some pictures of Gretchen surfaced on a website called The Dirty. Some of them were typical drunken party girl pictures that most of us have fallen victim to, but some of them were more provocative. Bare breasts, vibrators, sexual situations, bowel movements, etc. Pictures that someone else took, probably someone she knew and trusted, then decided to post for the world to see.

I don’t know about ya’ll, but I think the person who posted these private pictures should be chastised, not the person who’s in the pictures. Yeah, yeah, she allowed the pictures to be taken, but still, I’m sure she had no idea that everyone would see them and that she’d have to explain them to the world on television. She wasn’t hurting anyone with her behavior – she was having fun in a way that she deemed appropriate. I can’t understand why people are so judgmental about the situation.

I’m not emotionally invested in this incident or “TRH” cast members, but this whole thing caused me to contemplate how quick people are to judge others so harshly. Yes, people in the public eye must realize that they’re going to be judged before they put themselves out there – and I’ll experience this myself when my memoir comes out – but that doesn’t make it right, and it certainly doesn’t make it any less irritating. I think there’s a big difference between having an opinion and judging, but I don’t think many people recognize this difference. You can’t let it get you down, though, and it doesn’t seem like Gretchen is. And hey, she’s the one getting the most attention and publicity, so it appears that the joke’s on everyone else.

If you’ve never seen an episode of “The Real Housewives of Orange County”, check it out tonight – it airs at 7PM EST and 10PM PST on Bravo. I’ll certainly be watching. Go, Team Gretchen!