It's always good to know where you stand
Oh, Google searches. They're like that one grrrl in middle school you hung around with all the time even though she would call and bait you into talking shit about some other grrrl in your class while they were silently listening in on the line.
The one your mother didn't approve of, and you understood why but fought back anyway. The one who swore she wouldn't really kiss that boy with the feathered hair you liked so much during Seven Maybe Two Minutes In Heaven but then bragged to the whole class that she did anyway.
The one who taught you important things -- like which pages in Forever to flip to first and how to crimp your hair -- but then didn't invite you to her totally major end-of-year boy-grrrl pool party at the JCC.
Google is the new her. You love it, you feel you need it, you make it 16 friendship pins to put on it's Tretorn laces, and then it does incessant little things that make you think maybe, just maybe, you are being totally suckered.
Google doesn't steal the feathered-hair boy away from your clutches or announce to the 7th grade you got your period. Google just sends wackadoodle people to the front door of your blog by way of crazy searches.
Searches that make you wonder where the hell you stand in the universe, or at the very least, the interwebs: "the dirt in corvallis" (A far cry from my favorite and more popular searches for "britney's vajayjay" and "large black lady" -- I'm not kidding -- but somehow, this is a strangely compelling way to find me.)
Searches that make you feel like you are doing clock algebra when really it is just some PSAT prep question about trains that requires a simple formula but is dressed in a fucked up essay format: "dream" "mean" (Huh? And how did something about a warrior's whiskey prayers arrive at the station before me?)
Searches that might make you hate your out of control body now but relish it years later: "just boobs" (75th? Really? Have you seen this rack? I mean...What's it take for a lady to move up in the ranks? And also to get away from the results above and below?)
Searches that make you wonder if you have actually died and gone to hell or if you are just eternally in grammar school: "lightning mcqueen underwear small for my age 14 years old" (I can't even bring myself to think too much about this one, let alone the fact that my blog comes up FOURTH for this search.)
Searches that, during the rare moment when the spotlight reflects perfectly off your braces and light up your upward-facing eyes, remind you that you are doing exactly what you set out to: "feminist thing" (Made better by the fact this one was by way of a Google Image Search -- because we all want to know what those "feminist things" really look like. Oh, who am I kidding? This search had me at "feminist".)
Oh, Google searches. I love you. I hate you. I want my bright yellow v-neck Shaker knit sweater back.
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