In a logical continuation of my revisitation of all that crap I wrote on the old blog, Jesus Christ, 2012 was a weird year. But, mostly, I was surprised by 1) how blatantly ratchet and indifferently cruel I was on the Internet when it came to everybody in Oakland and 2) despite that, I still got a lot of love in my comments section and inbox. Which made me realize: huh, I definitely start a lot less shit these days, and no one comments on this blog anymore. Which is fine – I’ve rehabbed my image considerably over the last seven years, and that rehab has been quite successful. I guess it’s just a bummer that “rehabbing my image” meant “sacrificing my dream of being a sex blog hellion.” Of course, the reason I sacrificed that was because I wanted to make real money, which, I know, I know how tacky it is to be a sell out. But – actually, it’s more than just that. I guess I was just kinda over starting shit with people. Well, the world’s changed. There’s that, too. Because of “feminism” I’m not super inclined to start shit with other women. I gotta practice what I preach, right? And seeing as feminism cashed me out pretty hard last year, I feel a sense of obligation to uphold some of the basic tenets of feminism, such as: be nice to women and don’t drag them for sport. So, there’s that. But, also…I mean, wow, I was just getting all sorts of love letters in my inbox back in the day. And I miss that. I wonder if the lack of anonymous love letters has more to do with 1) the fact that I’m a sell out these days and I don’t promote my blog because I didn’t make enough money for the amount of time I put into promoting it 2) not starting shit with people has significantly lowered my profile in the Oakland scene so people aren’t aware that I’m crush-able 3) my pronounced allegiance to Urban Outfitters-style feminism makes me less approachable on an anonymous Internet level or 4) let’s face it, I’m not 24 anymore, and the years of self abuse are starting to show on my face a lot more. It’s probably a combination of all four, but, wah, I love anonymous love letters so much! And seeing as there are only three people who read this blog nowadays (Hi Kelsey! Hi David! Hi Gangsta Boo!) all I can really say is: sure, I guess I’d rather have the actual, tangible love of those three people than the anonymous inbox messages that don’t really do shit for me in the rest of my life. Fine! I’ll take the real deal over the tepid Internet knock off that anyone can buy on Amazon for $7.99. Also having peace in my life and not constantly looking over my shoulder and wondering what kind of behind my back shit talking I have to counter in order to survive is pretty nice. Ugh. You’re right. My life is definitely better now, but in the moments I take to revisit my own glamorization of the most salacious bits of my previous life – the nostalgia kicks in, nice and heavy.