I’ve never been a party person — drinker, smoker and bar fly, yes — but social gatherings really push the limits of my comfort zone. I think of parties as rejection enablers — opportunities for lots of people to come together in a mutual distaste for me and everything I stand for.  

Stepping into this whole social media scene is equal in my mind to walking out of the front door naked. It’s just not something I feel comfortable doing. Today I created a Facebook page for my blog; I joined Twitter and Pinterest; and I haven’t the slightest clue how to manage any of it. I want to participate in all of these e-circles, but I’m not very good at the marketing piece — My name is Alexis, and I like to write silly stories about myself, and post them on the Internet; will you be my friend? It sounds so pathetic.    

I follow these advice bloggers who frequently stop short of reporting anything valuable, because they’re all selling books — self-help crap about blogging for cash; blogging for love; blogging for fame; blogging for food; and so on.    Everyone says “do a contest; give something away,” which is great if you have stuff like books and planters and bags of rubber dog poop to dole out as prizes for people. I have two daughters, and sometimes I’d like to get rid of them. But I don’t think they’ll fit them in the mail box?   OH MY GOD — I feel like one of those PBS people asking for donations “so we may continue to provide you with quality programming.”