My Life Gone Viral

by Rae Earl

  I give Granddad a cuddle. We are beyond words sometimes, especially when he goes too deep.

  “I expect you’ve come around to get your things. So you’re leaving me with these two fools?”

  At that point I hear Teresa yell, “PUT MUSHROOMS BACK ON THE DARTBOARD OF HATE. They are EVIL. It’s like eating moldy mini umbrellas.”

  Granddad looks at me sadly. “I’ll miss you, gal. I will miss you.”

  We have an uncomfortable moment. This is because Granddad doesn’t really do feelings. He gets emotional and then changes the subject to the first thing that pops into his head before you have a chance to react.

  “Nothing wrong with mushrooms!” he shouts at Teresa. “Well, except the ones that can kill you.”

  He looks at me and winks. “Would you like to use my shed for one of your things before you go? For old times’ sake?”

  I’ve been using Granddad’s shed as my vlog spot. I’d sort of hoped he’d let me keep on using it, but I think he wants his man cave back and, as I hear Teresa and my dad fighting over murder fungi, I kind of understand that. It’s good to have a place to hide in life.

  I put my arm around Granddad’s shoulder and give him a kiss. He grabs his mop and pretends to attack me with it. That’s one of the ways he tells me he loves me.

  Families are weird, aren’t they? All families. I’ve never met a normal one.

  #HowToEatAsAHuman

  Going in Granddad’s shed feels different these days. Ever since I’ve known that A LOT of people might be actually watching my vlog, I’ve felt a bit more pressure. Messages. Notifications. Lovely Gracie at school giving me a sentence-by-sentence critique of every vlog I do.

  I still love doing it, though. This is the place where I can be most “me.” It’s like a massive dose of concentrated Millie Mountain Dew in the big glass of my life.

  Note to me: I am not a soft drink. I am actually a spoon.

  I sit on Granddad’s old chair and tap RECORD.

  Hello! Millie here without Dave. She’s currently eating my dinner. Which is sort of what I want to talk about. Hashtag Help show me how to share your lunch with your cat THE RIGHT WAY! Sometimes being a human is hard. I think cats actually have it really easy. Dave does. I make her breakfast for her. I get her gourmet tuna treats and never tell her that her breath stinks—even though it does. Badly. I style her fur every day. I check her for ticks. I don’t have to do this for any other living soul in my life. In fact I’m sure if I started checking my mum for ticks she’d be pretty furious.

  Anyway, eating is harder than you think. I found this out today when I was so busy worrying about stuff that’s going on in my life that I actually ignored my mouth. It’s nice stuff, too. It’s just new and I don’t do new very well. Because of all this, my cat stole my hot dog. Dave actually twirled it around her head like a majorette. No, my mum didn’t record it. That’s because she’s a mum.

  But to make sure I can eat properly again I’ve been using a thing my mum does that helps my brain stop “catastrophizing.” Or CAT-tastrophizing, where you think the worst AND Dave does some semi-evil feline thing.

  Basically, I concentrate on the FACTS. As you can see, my granddad’s shed is a bit … (I try to find a nice way of saying it) shabby chic. This is a fact. However, my catastrophizing worry brain says, “Granddad’s shed is shabby chic.” THEN it says, “OH MY GOD is this shed SO shabby that it’s full of germs and is it also full of asbestos? And will that get in my lungs and am I breathing it in now and should these be fumigated by professionals TO SAVE MY LIFE?” … and any food I might try to eat just gets forgotten because my head is exploding.

  When that happens, I just go back to the facts. Granddad’s shed is a bit shabby chic and has a bird calendar in it that my cat likes to eat. And I STOP and I go do something else. And HONESTLY, that is it. I don’t always manage it. That’s why I lost my sausage—but I’m trying. And when it works, it just helps me through. And I can finish any meal without becoming a total spoon.

  Anyway, thank you for watching. Leave any comments, and I’ll see you next time.

  And I put my thumb up at the end. I have no idea why I do this.

  As I upload it, Lauren messages me.

  Mills. Need to CU. Come around. Plse

  #Insects

  Ever since Lauren and I had a fight, I’ve tried to put her first. I totally became a horrible friend and let my online life rule everything. I was a single-minded vlog robot. So now, when Lauren says she wants to see me, I go.

  Her parents really don’t get along. They throw shopping bags at each other on a regular basis. They aren’t even living with each other at the moment, but they still have a war every time they meet. Lauren has told me she thinks she might be the result of a scientific experiment where they got two of the most unsuited human beings in history and forced them to have a child. I think this may be Lauren being a bit paranoid, but I can see her point. Her life does sound like a Marvel superhero’s life. You know, overwhelming home life, and then one day you realize you can fly or that you’re invisible. Well, she isn’t that because we can all see her, but you know what I mean.

  Lauren meets me at her front door. She’s wearing her “I’m-so-excited-I-could-burst” face. She beckons me in, grabs both of my arms, and starts doing little jumps on the spot.

  “I’m SO glad you’re here!” she whispers. “I have just found out the most unbelievable thing! Are you ready for this?”

  I don’t think I am, but I don’t think I’ve got any choice, either. I know my best friend. She looks like she might burst. Lauren takes a deep breath.

  “Millie. Termites eat wood faster when they listen to rock music.”

  I start giggling. “C’mon, Lauren. That is just some bored pest controller man writing something random on Twitter for a joke and then someone believes it and…”

  Lauren interrupts me. “No! I thought exactly the same thing, but I’ve read a ton of articles and I swear it’s true. Clever people have confirmed it!”

  I have an idea. “Okay. We should totally try to prove it. It could be a vlog! Hashtag Help the insects to eat my house faster! Well, you know what we need! We need termites.”

  Lauren looks at me. “There must be some in here. It’s like a sanctuary for crawly things.”

  Lauren’s house is honestly fine, but her dad and mum have spent so much time arguing over the years that the basic maintenance of the place has been ignored. This is extra strange as Lauren’s dad is a KING Handyman!

  The issue is you need teamwork to tile a bathroom, and you can’t be a team when you’re bringing up everything that the other one has ever done wrong EVER. Lauren says her mum makes a list of “bad memories” in the notes section of her phone so she can use them at will in arguments.

  Lauren and I start to look for termites. We google what they look like, but we don’t find any. Lauren reads that you can hear them eating your house if you put your ear up to a wall. She spends the next ten minutes with her face pressed up against every flat surface in the place. All we find is lots of dust (Gary would FREAK out!), a dead spider, and a slipper in the shape of a pizza that Lauren had when she was six. I post this on my Instagram page with #ShoeGoals.

  #ShoeGoals

  Lauren picks up my phone and pretends to vlog. “Hashtag Help me prove that termites like tunes as they work! Sorry, guys! Sadly, this amazingness could not be proven, as we couldn’t find any willing termites. In fact, we couldn’t find any termites at all. Next time, join us for Hashtag Help! Can giraffes swim? In fact, can they high-dive in an emergency?”

  This makes me really laugh. When Lauren goes on one of her fantasy trips, she’s really funny. I don’t know if anyone else would, but I don’t care. You know what best friends are like. You have tons of private jokes between you that no one else gets.

  I look at Lauren. “How are things here, anyway?”

  Lauren looks down. “Oh, they’re definitely splitting up, Mills. I’ll be staying here with D
ad. Mum’s gone to live with my aunt, but I see her lots. It’s better but, you know, I’m really down about it. I love both of them, and they love me, but they just hate each other. Mum said she only liked my dad for about twenty minutes in 2004. When they got married, they had an argument about how to cut the wedding cake. Mum wanted to do it with a normal knife. Dad wanted to do it on his own using a ceremonial dagger someone had given him at a Latin American music festival in 1996. Yeah. It didn’t look good from the start, really.”

  This is funny and sad at the same time.

  I give Lauren a squeeze. My parents split up, but they still get along. I know this is a nightmare for her. I don’t think she really got me around to see if insects like their music. I think she wanted a hug. I totally get that. If I were in her position, I’d want a hug 24/7.

  “Let’s go back to my house,” I say. Lauren’s coat is on before I finish the sentence.

  #IReadTheComments

  As soon as I open the front door at Mum’s house, Dave attacks my ankle. This is the new normal.

  Mum says animals don’t understand fame, but if my cat had opposable thumbs she’d definitely be trying to offer you an autograph right now. I go to pet her these days and she either walks off with her tail poker-straight in the air and her butt wiggling OR she tries to bite me. I put up with all of it. She’s one of the keys to being viral, and she knows it.

  Mum is looking tense. I’m half expecting her to launch a full psychological investigation into the sausage incident, but she seems distracted and a bit angry. Gary is not here and, breaking news, his robot vacuum cleaner is not around, either. It still follows him around like a dog and he still calls it McWhirter. He’s probably taken it out on the street for a dust and a walk.

  Mum looks at both of us. She can sniff out that there’s been some fun.

  “What have you two been up to?” she asks. This makes us both giggle. “Oh, I don’t want to know, actually. Gary’s gone out. McWhirter’s little wheels that help it roll around broke and it needs looking at.”

  I think I hear Mum mutter, “I think he needs looking at” under her breath, too.

  “Anyway,” she shouts, “I need to go get some milk. You two behave yourselves!”

  Lauren falls into the big armchair and flops her legs over the sides. Gary would not approve of this, but Gary is not here. “Okay, Mills!” she exclaims. “Let’s have a look at how your latest vlog is doing!”

  I’ve been nervous about doing this because of what I told you before. The bigger it all gets, the more my brain becomes a mixture of excitement and total doom. I really want this to work. I want Mum to be proud. She’s a go-getter. I don’t want to be just a “slightly better.” I’d never vlog that rhyme. It’s dreadful.

  My vlog has already got thousands of views and lots of likes. It’s really weird thinking I’m in someone’s “liked” file. Or in their history. Or—

  Deep breaths. My ribs are beginning to hurt with all of this.

  I focus my attention on the comments.

  LOVE THIS. Love you Millie. Love your work. (People are lovely)

  Shut up. No expert. Pull yourself together. Everything is a drama with you (Well, most people are lovely)

  What’s the thumb about? (Fair comment)

  We need the cat. (This is harsh, but I get it)

  Get Dave in. Dull without Dave (Bit too harsh)

  Need more cat (Okay, I get the message)

  Would be better with someone hot. (Oh, GO AWAY SunshineGenius45738—you are clearly a nine-year-old boy)

  Lauren leans over and reads. “Wow, Millie. Loads of views. You are getting bigger and bigger.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter REALLY quickly. “Want to watch something on Netflix?”

  Lauren knows what I’m doing. “Excellent change of subject. But you need to get used to this, Millie. This is your life now. You’re sort of famous—”

  At this precise moment Dave jumps on Lauren’s shoulder.

  “Sorry, Dave, yes!” Lauren says. “You are famous, too!”

  Lauren is saying this as a joke, but I know that Dave totally understands what Lauren is saying and that she completely believes it. Dave falls into Lauren’s lap and rubs against her chin for some attention. When Lauren isn’t quick enough to give it to her, Dave punches her arm without using her claws. This is her latest party trick. Everyone thinks this aggression is cute—including Lauren.

  “Oh, Davey-Lady,” she says in a really silly voice, “are you being ignored by the horrible humans?”

  Dave half closes her eyes in agreement. Lauren and I both start stroking her.

  Lauren looks at me hard. “By the way, where’s Danny going this weekend?”

  I sigh. “Oh, he’s going with his parents to some kind of spa. Facials. Pedicures. That sort of thing. He can’t really text me much because they are in the middle of nowhere. So it will probably be all massage. No message.”

  I’m quite proud of this joke, but Lauren completely ignores it.

  Lauren looks down at Dave. “Must be weird wanting to spend time with your parents. I couldn’t relax with mine—even if I’d had an anesthetic. I don’t even mean local anesthetic. It would have to be general. I’d need complete unconsciousness.”

  Lauren is really getting good at the dark humor thing. I don’t know whether I should laugh or just hug her again. Instead, I say what’s been on my mind for a few days.

  “To be honest, Loz, Danny doesn’t generally message me as often as I thought he might do. Even when he’s not in the middle of a forest having microdermabrasion he’s not really … very…”

  “Into you?” Lauren blurts out. I know she doesn’t mean to be so blunt, but this STINGS.

  “No. He likes me. I think he’s into me. We’ve spent quality time together. It’s going really good, but…”

  How do I explain this to Lauren? You know when you’ve got a tiny bit of peanut butter left in the jar and you have to spread it really thinly over your toast to make it work? Danny is that peanut butter. He is spread very thinly. His parents love him. His friends love him. I love him. So we all get little bursts of his buttery time. And like I’ve said before, he’s so relaxed sometimes he’s practically asleep. He’s Zen. In fact, he’s his own brand of Zen. He’s Danny Zen—Zan. I LOVE that about him, but sometimes I want him to be more a part of my life and more a part of my vlog.

  He puts his phone away too much. I try to be cool with it, but he puts it down in his room and doesn’t check it for hours. I’m not like that. I’m a bit more … look, I love my friends and I love my phone. I just wish Danny were a bit more … present? OH NO. I SOUND PATHETIC.

  “Oh, Lauren,” I say with a tut. “I think love might have turned my wise-woman button off and my obsessive-girlfriend button on.”

  “Not you, Mills,” Lauren scoffs. “You’ll be sensible till you die. That’s what Hashtag Help is all about. Solid advice! OUCH!”

  Dave scratches Lauren with her claws extended.

  “And you, Dave, obviously,” Lauren snaps.

  That was absolutely not a coincidence. I’m sure Dave can understand just about everything that we are saying. Knowing Dave, she can probably speak several languages. She already knows English and Cat. She’ll be learning coding next and, after that, it’ll be Dave World Domination.

  #SchoolLegend

  When I wake up on Monday morning, the first thing I’m STILL thinking about is SunshineGenius45738 and the “Would be better with someone hot” comment.

  Of course this is what I am thinking about. If there are 100 people saying nice things and one total troll saying sexist nonsense GUESS WHO HAS WALKED TO THE FRONT OF MY BRAIN WHILST I’VE BEEN ASLEEP?! SunshineGenius45738 presses the button in me that thinks all this is just a crazy burst of luck and I’m going to be found out as just someone with quite a good cat. GO AWAY, BRAIN BURP OF INFERIORITY.

  This is my new reality. Telling people I don’t know to remove themselves from my head as their comments are irrelevant and
haters gonna hate.

  That’s not the only thing that has changed.

  Walking into school these days involves some points and whispers. You know the sort of thing. People putting their hands up to hide their mouths when they see you (obvious!) OR people turning their back, giggling and then pointing (even more obvious and rude!). I’m not being paranoid. You can ask Lauren. I have to make sure I do schoolwork really well as teachers have made snarky comments like, “YOU can’t make a career out of being on the Internet talking about random things!” Actually, you can, and I’d like to for the moment—and there is nothing wrong with that.

  It’s amazing how people think you’re getting arrogant when inside you’re feeling just relieved and excited and satisfied and nervous and you’re going around like a washing machine on a HOT MESS SPIN CYCLE.

  Lauren thinks teachers wouldn’t even say that if I were a boy. If it were a boy doing a #Help vlog, they’d be congratulating him on doing such a positive thing and saying things like, “Isn’t it wonderful to see a sensitive man trying to help people like that?!” Plus, they’d all be asking him for his autograph for their children and taking him to important meetings in London and stopping at Starbucks on the way. “Yes, of course you can have a caramel latte with an extra shot and a danish. I’ll pay, Corey. It’s fine!”

  Corey doesn’t exist and this IS probably a bit farfetched, but if a boy does anything in this school that doesn’t involve fighting, bullying, skipping school, or destroying stuff, teachers go overboard. A girl does something good and they just pull the biggest MEH meme face in history.

  You can tell my imagination is running pretty wild. I need twenty minutes of mindfulness. Or twenty years.

  Luckily, I don’t have much time to concentrate on my whirlwind brain as I see my boyfriend hurtling toward me like the world’s most lush missile. His hair is incredible. He looks like a walking statue. I’m sure he has a stylist waiting by his front door every day. It’s probably his mum with a really good detangling hairbrush, but STILL he looks as sleek as an incredibly healthy and handsome dolphin. The cleverest dolphin. He doesn’t just jump through hoops for fish. He does quantum physics, too, with his fin. His spa retreat really did him good.