Tag Archives: facebook

Warning: Passive Aggressive post ahead…. #crazyexes

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Warning: Passive Aggressive post ahead…. #crazyexes

I haven’t had time to do anything meaningful on here in many moons and this will not be truly mind-shattering either. There are lots of things in the world going on that I could write about, Ferguson, California Earthquakes, new ancient aliens episodes, rape culture, journalists being beheaded, etc. But those things are too heavy and I am feeling quite solipsistic. So instead I am taking this space to passive aggressively speak to a cyber stalker whom I (perhaps egotistically) believe will read it.

I have exes. Most of us do. But while I have engaged in some “harmless” ex-stalking in my day like casually checking out their public facebook profile photo just out of plain morbid curiosity, I can with all honesty state I have NEVER friend requested his or her new partner.

I do not want to be their pal. I do not want them to know I was sizing up them up as a previous partner.  

It has actually been sometime since I have done that regardless and I like to think that was due to some insecurity I have outgrown. 

Now, in the last year plus, I have had not one, BUT TWO of my partner’s exes cozying up to me in the cyber world. Really.

One sent threatening messages, showing her true 40+ year old age to be somewhere about 14, this was easily squashed with a magical feature called BLOCKING. No further contact. ¡Salud! 

Oh, but recently, the last month or so, another one popped up. Now mind you, I think my social media presence is ridiculously large, I concur. BUT I have things as locked down as the illusion of privacy permits (sans this blog) and most things have a fake name associated with them or require you need my REAL email to communicate. Well this one, I give her hacker search crazy bitch toolbox props cause she is EVERYWHERE.

On my twitter.

On my facebook.

On my tumblr.

On my instagram.

On my F**KING Pinterest. I had to disable it. I am very sad. Pinterest, get some better privacy settings. Sad face emoticon.

And when the above modes of contact were not successful, she started liking my things or communicating through my partner’s family members we had in common. So I had to delete THEM. That is not good in a newish relationship when you are trying to establish relationships with family members who live out of area, especially when THEY added you, now I just seem rude.

What can be gained of this for you?!

Yes, I can see from your very public disclosures you just got left recently by your partner.

I get it.

I am sorry, but….my partner isn’t available as a back up.

We are currently still together sooooo……

Get some counseling. Talk to a friend in real life. Focus on your kids. Focus on yourself. Self Care. Exes are exes for a reason. Truly.

If my partner wanted communication with you to continue, it would have.

And if that was your angle, um, why would you approach me, not them? Oh, that’s right. They deleted THEIRS cause of this.

DOH.

Stop it.

Just stop. 

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Poverty. Totally a choice.

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Poverty. Totally a choice.

Bootstraps. Pull yourself up by them!

Unless you are barefoot and pregnant….and that was YOUR decision. Fu*king breeders!

Just kidding. I get tired of feeling like I have to explain my clients or enlighten people on oppression and poverty and every other ism that exists in my world (your world too, just FYI). I digress.

When I started out down the social work path, I was very vigilant and ready to educate the masses; I was excited to understand the criminal justice population I had previously been working with in another light. I wanted to fix the world, change society.

Now I just want to help individuals. I am sure that is why nothing changes and if it does it is a very slow painful process….because all our passion gets sucked out and replaced by not apathy but sheer exhaustion. Or we feel liuke we did something by liking something on Facebook or blogging about it or signing a dumb ass petition on change dot org….

You can’t fix ______________ so you just try to negate the damage.

It’s sad, but it is what it is.

I read this today and thought it was a nice look into the lives of the people some of you are blaming and bitching about.

http://killermartinis.kinja.com/why-i-make-terrible-decisions-or-poverty-thoughts-1450123558

And just for fun, here is my favorite explanation of white privilege for you white boys who don’t believe in it.

http://whatever.scalzi.com/2012/05/15/straight-white-male-the-lowest-difficulty-setting-there-is/

I hope Daniel reads this.

Positive thoughts and creation of reality…..

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Positive thoughts and creation of reality…..

I really have been neglecting my blog….out living life and being in love and junk…… but I do think of you often…. my readers 😉 But I wanted to share this with you as I was salvaging my poor dying computer’s data onto a gigantic TB external hard drive…..

I am also doing this thankfulness thing on Facebook….And my November 2nd thankfulness? I am thankful for love and Damon.

Proof that things can be created with thought…especially when working with powerful people… Cody and Alanna helped on this…. and the list below? I wrote that in February/March and lo and behold…. come July BAM. Got it.

I only ever wanted to fall asleep smiling.

 Sleeping while smiling

a most admirable feat,

Seen by another

 

Smiling in ones sleep

One of many things we know,

Only through others.

 

secrets shared between

lucid dreams and reverie

trust as a real verb

 

When vulnerable,

we allow our hearts to bloom;

a midnight blossom.

 

Jasmine in moonlight

a slow growing southern treat

winter can unfurl

 

Better to be still

held in memory, a smile

Viewed when you need it

 

The warmth of winter

radiating from the south,

waiting to enfold.

 

bleak the path becomes

when we expect summer heat

yet feel bitter cold

 

The role of the muse

is to inspire the passions

myriad, though they may be.

 

Don’t expect summer.

Rather, be the source of heat:

radiant and true.

The list of traits I require:

  1. Cannot hate their mother;
  2. Cannot be in or formerly in the Army: Active, Guard or Reserve;
  3. Cannot be less than 30 years old or more than 40 years old;
  4. Cannot be an adrenaline junkie;
  5. No misanthropists;
  6. No misogynists;
  7. No racists;
  8. No bigots;
  9. No bullies;
  10. Must have a good vocabulary;
  11. Must be honorable;
  12. Must read books;
  13. Should expect as much as I do;
  14. Should believe in respect, trust, loyalty, and honesty;
  15. Must practice No. 14;
  16. Must believe omission is the same as a lie;
  17. Must have outside interests;
  18. Must dance;
  19. Must be able to drive a stick shift; and
  20. Must not have any unsupported children.

Huzzah Muthatruckas!

Don’t forget to play! It keeps you young…..

Kicking my own ass

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Kicking my own ass

I find myself struggling at times to keep my head out of my head; I try very hard to stay present and in the moment so that I enjoy things without over-thinking them, diminishing them, or writing them off as hormonally/chemically influenced experiences. When you think and feel something but aren’t sure if you should say them or not because of the weight they can carry, for instance…But there are also times when I give people advice about such things; from how thoughts are things and intention and energy and love and self image, etc…

I talk a good game but these things I advise others on are very hard for me to stay conscientious of myself from time to time. For example: Even at my heaviest, I thought I was hot. I carried that attitude and put off that energy and like a magical little glamour…others saw me that way too. And now, at my lightest in a few years, I find myself more critical of myself. I still think I am the kitty’s titties, but the older I get (and not terribly unrelated…the younger the collective THEY get) the more I compare myself to the THEM I think I am competing with. I know I am not, but it is still something I find myself doing.

How do you stop that?

I’m not a typically insecure person. In fact, often the opposite. I generally find myself feeling like a judgmental schmuck because I probably do think I am smarter and hotter than most. HA.

But social media (usually Facebook) really makes me feel less than.

It’s like a commercial bombardment of peers and celebrities and things I wish I was all the time… and you know what others think about them thanks to the fucking little ticker on the side. Ugh.

I just want to shut it off again.

But then I would go nuts wondering what was going on and what was being said etc.

Not to mention the lameness of my “friends” who don’t contact you unless you are on Facebook. Boo.

I miss the 90’s. Fuck this shit.

And then it hits me….

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And then it hits me….

So I know, I know….finding meaning in everything is dumb and illogical. But when you have 857,348,578 things happen that align with gut feelings you have had, you start to take them into consideration. Confirmation bias aside, sometimes I meet someone or see something and it really bothers me when I can’t place it or them. Sometimes it is totally topical like not remembering who an actor in a film is, other times it’s like a Déjà vu situation, a “Mists of Avalon” when Igraine and Uther meet for the first time in this life if you will….and they realize that they have been together for many lifetimes and you as the reader have to wonder if it is true or part of Viviane’s spell….sigh.

I digress.

Anywhoo….

When I was younger my BFF Lisa and I would have conversations about something and try to remember a name or a song or an actor what have you, and it could be 3 weeks or months later and I would remember. regardless of what time of day (or morning…3 am anyone?) I would call her and be like “GARY BUSEY!” to which she would reply something to the effect of “What the fuck? oh yeah. yep. Goodnight Jani….”

In recent years I have taken to writing things down next to my bed and calling people (or Facebooking) people at more reasonable hours. Usually, anyhow. 😉

The thing that has been bothering me of late is someone’s tattoo….I KNEW I had seen it but just couldn’t place it. I had made up all kinds of scenarios, logical and illogical, romantic and dramatic….from supernatural to a stroke. (I know, I know, strokes aren’t funny.)

Then this morning, I am scrolling through my Facebook timeline looking for an invitation to a True Blood viewing party so I can change my response and BAM.

A movie meme.

There it is.

Right fucking in front of me.

It’s two character’s tattoos put together from a movie.

FINALLY!

While I am relieved to finally consciously place it, I am still a little sad it wasn’t something  meaningful. Stupid girl.

DOH

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

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ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I’ve come to the point in my academic career where I am three weeks from being DONE unless I want to be a doctor (I do not.) And while I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, I can’t seem to bring myself to close the gap. I am just done. It’s like I am halfway up the stairs to some magical f**king Nirvana and out of breath and just don’t give a sh*t anymore. Screw enlightenment. From conversations with most of my fellow classmates, this seems to be a general consensus;  however the fact that my apathy is shared does not push me through this ONE. LAST. WRITING. ASSIGNMENT.

And I know others are spending day after day, hour after hour working tirelessly on this same assignment that I will put much less work into for probably the same grade.

Bring on the guilt.

I find myself wasting time doing other things that I rationalize have to do with my assignment, like creating a cover page that has fancy stuff on it for my portfolio or coming up with amazing acronyms for the name of a program….Or going on Facebook to ask an opinion on wording when lo and behold it has been 2 hours and I haven’t accomplished anything besides getting lost in the timesuck.

Then I feel guilty.

So to get myself back in the right head space to critically self reflect and develop myself as a professional, I come onto this blog and write a new post or a poem or whatever else I can do to keep my ass in this seat sort of focused on coming back to this stupid assignment…

AND SURPRISE  I feel guilty for sitting on my ass. So I go do some burpees cause I said I would and I do some yoga, then I remember I need to flip the laundry and I haven’t eaten today and then a kid needs something like to be fed or paid attention to or clean underwear or someone texts me or calls me or I check my email to see if someone wrote me saying HEY!!!!! COME WORK FOR US NOWWWWWWWWWWW….then when they haven’t I decide to distract myself with some Game of Thrones or turn on slacker to lament out loud with rhythm and the pretend impressionistic stylings of me as Lily Allen or Amy Winehouse or Nina Simone…..then I walk past the desk and see my dry erase board with its giant letters that say:

TRANSFER SUMMARY DUE 5-31-13

PORTFOLIO DUE 6-5-13

TAKE HOME EXAM DUE 6-6-13

And I feel guilty so I sit my big ass back down at the desk.

I do some amazing work for a few and then decide to check on craigslist and the state website for any new job postings because:

I need a muthatruckin J-O-B!

Like a month ago I need one. And I don’t have one. I have so many bills due in like 2 weeks. OMFG

And the student loans….the student loans are enough to make me contemplate skydiving.

So I feel guilty.

Boo. Guilt is a worthless emotion and has not inspired me one iota to take care of business.

Onward.

Gees I am such a slacker….

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Gees I am such a slacker….

but…….only when it comes to my blog.

Seriously…Sorry friends…been doing the job-search-grad-school-hippy-hippy-shake (no really, its a thing) and then this week I’ve been in trainings….next week I am going to the ocean for a conference…it’s rough I tell ya, rough.

BUT every time I think the Universe is done throwing me curve balls, I get another one….this time it was an ok one though.

Facebook has this magical effed up skill of knowing who I have thought about or talked about recently and then WHAMO…they pop up on my radar.

Some people I am like:

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I had almost forgot they existed!

And then others, I have a real soft spot for….

…sometimes I have “known” these people for 25 years…Oh my dear sweet ancient alien baby space monkey Jebus….25 years? Really?

I don’t always know anything about them except what has trickled through the rumor mill over the years….

What I remember from childhood is often very different from the people they have become…and yet, they are still those same people in my head.

Memory is a bittersweet thing.

But still, I wish them so much happiness it makes my chest hurt. Huh.

It really is all about love and energy. Even if you don’t know it.

I’ve been through some emotional roller coasters lately and the one concrete thing I have realized is that loving others makes me feel good, but they don’t have to love me back for me to get that benefit.

 

 

This is the part that I hate…

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This is the part that I hate…

So I have this bad habit of starting sentences with adverbs. Oh well. 🙂

Anyway, I had company this weekend who asked me why I have pictures hanging everywhere of my ex-partner….They wondered if it was an indication that I am still holding out hope to get back together or I am not over them or whatnot. I said no, I just really haven’t had the time to deal with it considering grad school and blah blah blah….

But since they said that, now all I can think of is the task. My eyes go to the pictures of them immediately as I walk by my framed pictures and mosaics…. It’s a pain in the ass. It requires an emotional dissonance and dissociation I am not totally prepared for and yet, I know it needs to be done.

It’s not like I am doing anything better today.

Facebook and Pinterest and homework and the last episode of Spartacus can wait I suppose.

I hate endings.

But I love beginnings. It’s a balance I suppose.

Do they have methadone for Facebook addiction?

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Do they have methadone for Facebook addiction?

I am on day 4 since I killed my Fakebook. The first day was the hardest. But even today, when I turned on my computer I immediately typed in http://www.fakebook.com rather somatically. I didn’t log in. But I was tempted.

I feel good about it. It’s not forever but it’s for a while. It was becoming too much of a floatie for me….I feel a bit as though I am drowning in my life and I would like to be able to find the side of the pool without a floatie.

In my opinion, if you use a floatie, you never really learn to swim.

So I pulled the needle out of my arm.

I even threw away my rig.

Sigh.

I have had several phone calls from people and that has been magic. It’s really so WEIRD, hearing what people are saying and being able to get their intention just through their voices! So novel. No misunderstandings of tone or sarcasm! No waiting for a response. No wondering if my android is being dumb cause my house is a dead zone.

Honestly, I really think this phone thing might catch on.

Whoever invented it is going to be the next Zuckerberg, evil genius.

I should have bought stock in “phone.”

I might even see about doing that when I hang out IRL with some people today.  Is it insider trading if I share my plan with others? Hmmm.

Maybe I will just tweet about it.

You know, after I kick your ass in “Words with Friends.”

Survey says…..

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Survey says…..

CERVEZAS!

Just kidding.

But after about a month of heartburn, ulcers, sleepless nights and related irritable attitude combined with relationship woes, professional misfortune, scholastic pressure and being a parent; I have decided where I will live (for sure) after graduation.

I made a pros and cons list for Idaho and for Washington.

I meditated.

I surveyed Facebook friends and frenemies.

I did tarot cards.

I talked to classmates.

I talked to professionals.

I did guided meditations.

I talked to my counselor.

I talked to my mentor.

I talked to my soul mates.

I did about 34,834,530 different things as instructed by various decision making models and blogs.

I flipped coins. Over and over.

This morning I woke up and just knew:

I have to stay in Vancouver.

My heart said so. I can go where ever I want in 5 years. But for now, in fact for once in my life, I am thinking of my kids and my kids only. I am not rationalizing my needs or wants. I am not running home because I have a broken heart. I am planting roots.

Kudos to me.