You're Never Weird on the Internet (Almost) Read Free

superstar, like San Diego Comic-Con, and . . . other places like San Diego Comic-Con. Oh, and I have a HUGE barista recognition factor. Seventy-five percent of the time when I’m ordering my “almond milk matcha latte with no sugar added, lukewarm, please,” I’ll be recognized by an employee. And yes, my order is a pain in the ass, but I’m determined to enjoy the liquid indulgences of modern life. Might as well take advantage of it all before the zombie apocalypse. I have no practical skills; I’m fully aware that I’ll be one of the first ones “turned.” Instead of learning motorcycle repair or something else disaster-scenario useful, I’ll order the drink I want until I become a shambling corpse.
    And I won’t be defensive about it, okay?!
    I’m very grateful for the weird niche I’ve created in life. Some people know me only from my Twitter feed. That’s fine, too, because I, objectively, give VERY good tweet.

    Frankly, I’d hate a life where everyone knew me and people made money selling pictures of me without makeup to tabloids. I’m not in the business of wearing makeup every day. Or going out of my house on a regular basis. I’m most comfortable behind a keyboard and . . . that’s it. Real life is awkward for me, like wearing a pair of hot shorts. There’s no way to walk around in those and NOT assume people are snickering behind my back about droopy under-cleavage.
    The informality of the online world makes it feel like I’m less a “celebrity” and more a big sister my fans can be brutally honest with. “Felicia! Loved your last video. You looked tired, though; take melatonin, it’ll help with the jet lag!” They know me as a sort of digital friend, not an object to be torn down over superficials. (Probably because I don’t give them much “objectifying” material.)

    The best part about this weirdly cobbled-together career I’ve built is thatI get to bury myself in all the subjects I love. Comics, video games, DVDs, romance novels, TV shows, bad kung fu movies. It’s all part of my job to purchase these things and mostly legally deduct them from my taxes. And it makes it easier to connect with people, no matter where I am in the world. When the occasional stranger approaches me at a party to say, “Hey, you’re Felicia Day. Let’s talk about that comic book you were tweeting about last week!” it’s the greatest thing in the world. Because it saves me from having to stand in the corner awkwardly, drinking all the Sprite, and then leaving after ten minutes without saying good-bye to the host. (That’s called an Irish exit, and I’m part Irish, so it’s part of my genetic wheelhouse.) As someone who had few or . . . yeah, NO friends when I was growing up? Pretty sweet deal.
    So how did I get this super-awesome career? Well, you’re in luck, because this book is designed to tell you how I got here! Short answer:
A) By being raised weird.
B) By failing over and over again.
C) And by never taking “no” for an answer.
    This isn’t a typical lady memoir. I appreciate my beauty sleep too much to have crazy “one night in Cabo” stories. I don’t have emo ex-boyfriends to gossip about. And I haven’t been on any quirky drug trips that ended in profound self-realizations. Guess I’ll get busy in those areas for the next book. (Send in the prosecco! That’s alcohol, right?)
    There will be video game references galore, and at one point you may say to yourself, “This book might be too nerdy even for ME.” But the heart of my story is that the world opened up for me once I decided to embrace who I am—unapologetically.
    My story demonstrates that there’s no better time in history to have a dream and be able to reach an audience with your art. Or just be as weird as you want to be and not have to be ashamed. That lesson’s just as legit.
    Between the jokes and dorky illustrations (I’m addicted to Photoshop), I hope you can find a teensy bit of inspiration for