Sometimes you have to admit when you don’t belong somewhere. Here are a few places I simply shouldn’t be:
A blueberry-pie-eating contest. (One of my first memories is my brother having a diaper full of gross shit after eating a few too many blueberries. To this day I cannot abide blueberry compote.)
A dance recital for kids from kindergarten to high school. (I did that once, and we paid our dues. By number 83, I was ready to take a hostage. Or volunteer to be one.)
A line longer than ten people. (I don’t need gas, money, or anything at Trader Joe’s that badly, and I never will.)
And TikTok.
I have no business being on TikTok.
Addicted.
Enthralled.
Intoxicated by this time sucker.
A trusted friend whose taste I admire and whose judgment I trust insisted I give it a try a few months ago, which I did. On February 1, 2020, I opened my account (way before Madonna started hers, thank you very much) and posted a silly video of Suzie in which it’s painfully obvious neither she nor I knew what we were doing. I did a few more videos and promptly forgot about it until a few weeks ago when we went into social isolation and suddenly there was nothing to do. At the tail end of winter, it provided a silly glimpse into the lives of others. It was mostly for teens, but there was a growing contingent of 40-something parents on it as well, who were finding their own way of expressing themselves. It’s designed for silliness and nonsense, and may very well be the ideal weapon for combating my perfectionist tendencies. (Turns out perfectionism is one of the flaws that has plagued me and contributed to some unhealthy behaviors over the entirety of my life.)
Letting loose on a medium like TikTok is an easy way to dance in public (one of the recommendations for how to get over the embarrassment of not being perfect all the time) so this may have more value than a time-filler. They have a strict no-eggplant/no-bare-ass policy and are much more stringent than FaceBook when it comes to that sort of thing, so you’ll still have to come here for the cheekier side of me, but if you want to see old-school Madonna CDs, spins around the garden, and some Speedo longings, set up an account (you don’t need to post, you can simply watch) and follow me at @alanilagan.
