If you own a business and you are successful, then it’s probably OK to make your avatar on Twitter and your profile pic on Facebook your favorite body parts, or your favorite finger with your tongue sticking out behind it. It’s funny, it’s startling, and people look at them. This is exactly what you want, need, and crave. It’s your little piece of virtual real estate with which to do what you wish.
Consider the outside chance that something might change. You might like the idea of having a job where there’s an HR department, benefits, and someone else taking care of payroll. A job where you keep a jacket, spare pantyhose, a Tide stick, lipstick, and a deoderant stick. A job where you resist the urge to stick it to the man.
Or maybe it’s not a job. Maybe you meet someone special, someone who knows you from a perfect split second where a smile or a hello and the magnetic pull between you makes everything else disappear. A split second. A split second where you wish you could rewind life and erase every bad judgment call you ever made. Well, maybe not all of them.
One day you might have to snap your knees together and shut up. One day you might have to zip up your fly or put your boobs back into your bra, delete hawt and sexy photos from your social media accounts, and stop writing and saying things that could haunt you when you’re interviewing for a job, applying for a grant or venture capital, or somebody’s considering you as marriage material.
Written words are probably the toughest things to drop. Now that we have the Internet, everything we write or say lives forever. If it’s not too late, I recommend cleaning up your act and start spinning your observations positively. Eventually, the old ink fades, overcome by more thoughtful and respectable word flows. You start looking like an intelligent resource instead of a flamboyant blow hard or Bimbo with a capital B.
I know this. I am the voice of experience. But there is something else I know. There are those who are determined to earn their own painful knocks, scars, and woeful tales. Go for it. I hope you don’t turn out like that old roommate of mine I saw digging in a trash can at Ala Moana Beach Park years ago.
Look. What I have done and what I have been have shaped me to what I am now. I’ve said that here on lavagal.net several times. I will always admire those who finished college in four years and then proceeded to advanced degrees.
My beat has been more bongo drum than collegiate marching band. If you march to a different drummer as well, then you should also be resilient, flexible, a chameleon in today’s work force. And when you are, it’s OK to make a glass of bubbly your avi on your birthday. I know this.