WordPress, REMOVE THE LIKE BUTTON.

Posted in Current Events by

WordPress is my favourite website. It let’s you create the most visually appealing blogs and it connects you with millions of incredible bloggers. If someone told me tomorrow that I was only allowed on one website for the rest of my life, WordPress would be it. It’s brilliant, it’s amazing, and it’s fantastic.

That being said, WordPress has a serious spam problem that they refuse to address.

Spam comments are getting through more often, which is fine, it’s not hard for me to click “trash.” Other forms of spam are impossible to eradicate. Thanks to WordPress’ lack of caring about spam, I no longer care about the amount of followers I have because so many followers are spam blogs. I report them and nothing happens. It’s clear the blogs are spam based on the content and ridiculous amount likes and comments, so why isn’t WordPress doing anything about it?

Worse than spam follows are spam likes. I’ve shut off visible likes on my posts, but the like button cannot be removed. Why? WordPress, you are not Facebook…and even Facebook seems to understand that likes are bullshit. Why can’t users remove the like button? When I got the notification, “You’ve got 500 likes on My Present Self!” my only thought was, “Who gives a fuck? It’s mostly spam.”

WordPress is just so horrible at dealing with this problem that they only scenario I can envision where they still look good is that they’re trying to get people more focused on comments. I know that my only goal now is comments. Comments mean people are reading and interested in my post. Follows and likes mean that WordPress sucks at dealing with spam.

This post took an angrier turn than I thought it would, but I’m just sick of this. WordPress, I understand you can’t eliminate every single spam blog. However, you could allow users to remove the like button. You just won’t.

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You know what’s worse than an apology? A non-apology.

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I’m sorry if you’re offended by this, but you’re just an all-around terrible person and an incredible loser. I’m sorry that you’ll likely feel bad when I say that you don’t have any good qualities, only bad ones, but it’s a truth and sometimes the truth hurts.

Isn’t that obnoxious? Doesn’t that make you want you scream and punch the other person in the face? I know it does me, but I’m secretly violent like that. Emphasis on secretly. The only thing that I can do when someone offers me a non-apology is say, “I don’t accept your apology because you inserted “Obviously there’s some stuff you need to work on” into it. That isn’t an apology. That is you attempting to justify what you said and still somehow make me out to be a bad person. Unfortunately for you, I’ve declared my life a bullshit free zone and am rejecting your non-apology. This entire thing was your fault. You started it; I didn’t. And even though that’s true, I sent you an apology (an actual apology, even though you truthfully didn’t really deserve one) and you responded with an apology that would have been great. However, you had to insert, “Obviously you definitely need to work on yourself.” Excuse me? I don’t think you want to play that game with me. Am I perfect? No. However, neither are you and I didn’t bring that up in my apology. You know why? Because that makes it not an apology.

I have certain aspects of myself that I know I need to change, but I don’t need to hear about it from you. Like I said yesterday, if you want me to actually continue to speak to you, I advise you to change tactics.

Remember, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

And now I need to move on from this situation and focus on improving myself because, “Forgiveness is to be a prisoner free and realise the prisoner was you.”

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Thank you for my lack of memory, God.

Posted in Life by

For all of my life I’ve had a extraordinarily good memory. My first memory is from when I was one. I was in my crib. There were a lot of stuffed animals. The bedroom I was in wasn’t the bedroom that I had for most of the time when I was at this house, which is how I figured out later on that this was a real memory. I asked my parents, “Did I sleep in the master bedroom when I was younger?” and they said yes. According to my grandparents, when they would drop me off at my other grandparents house, even though I was two, I knew how to get from their house to my other grandparents house and would give them directions. I remember my dreams, I remember conversations and I remember life changing events, both good and bad.

But in the past couple years, my memory has become less accurate. I’m not always able to recall conversations at the drop of a hat. Someone will say, “Hey, remember that funny thing that happened last year?” and I’ll nod along as though I know what they’re taking about. In reality,  I haven’t a clue. Sometimes someone will mention something bad that happened and I, maybe because it’s true that pain has no memory, won’t be able to recall the event. This used to bother me, but I’m happy with it now.

Sherlock said in ‘The Great Game’ that “Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters.” I feel like I’m finally beginning to rid my mind of all of the rubbish and see the world, and myself, for what it actually is. Imperfect, yes, but in the capable hands of God.

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Why I Hate Mother’s Day More Than Valentine’s Day

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As a single woman there is one holiday that I just can’t stand. Mother’s Day.  Today, for all of my shift, I had to be reminded that there was a group out there known as “mothers” and that I am not part of that group.

“Do you have kids?”

“No, I don’t have kids.”

“Why not? You’re so good with kids!”

You see, well-meaning customer at my till, being good with kids doesn’t automatically mean I get a kid. If that was the case, there would be no-more babysitters. They’d all be busy looking after their own kids that God handed to them after they managed to feed someone else’s kids dinner once and put them to bed.

The funny thing is, I did less than that at a till. Do you know what I did that makes me so great with kids? I gave the kids each a sticker. Yep.

Now, I’m not disagreeing that I’m good with children; my skill level in dealing with young kids is partly why I’m getting my teaching degree. I do think, though, that handing out stickers isn’t exactly indicative that I should have my own kids.

Do I want my own kids? Yes, but I’m missing a crucial part of that equation. Although I’ve been asked out and have gone on a few dates, I’ve never been in a real relationship. I think it’s because the guys I hang out with are strange and so only strange guys ask me out. If I’m still single by my 25th birthday I’ll have to resort to internet dating.

I wasn’t this bothered by my single status on Valentine’s Day (BTW, that’s what it is. It’s not Singles Awareness Day or any such bullshit). I think the reason for this is that I don’t want to be in a relationship. I want to be a mum more than anything. If I die without children, I will consider my life a waste. I shouldn’t feel bad that I haven’t had them yet (even though my fertility is taking a nose-dive in three years when I hit twenty-seven) because it’s not the right time. However, I don’t want to be single when I’m thirty and I really don’t want to be childless when I’m thirty.

I know all I can do is have faith that I’ll meet a guy, and he’ll like me back, and our annoying tendencies will compliment each-others and my life won’t amount to nothing. I know going back to school is a good opportunity to meet people. My sister says I need to be more open. She’s probably right. I guess I’ll see how it all goes.

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May 12, 2013: I’m done with Tumblr

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Right after I post this, I’m deleting my
Tumblr. It’s sudden, but not sudden. I’ve thought about this for a while and after praying I’ve realised this is the right thing to do.

I waste too much time on Tumblr and I want to focus more on WordPress and Pinterest in promoting my blog.

I’m obsessing about celebrities instead of getting to know the real people.

I’m twenty four and I can’t continue on with celebrity obsessions (although I still love Benedict Cumberbatch and will for a long time). I need to grow up.

If I can ever figure out how to use Tumblr productively, I’ll start using again.

Until then, au revoir Tumblr.