I feel that I'm a pretty patient person when it comes to dealing with people's foolishness. Maybe during certain times of my life, I find myself being a bit more ... difficult than other times. But overall, I'm pretty reasonable.
But I have my "hot spots." Those spots where, if touched, I lose my mind and get all kinds of aggravated and dramatic. There aren't many. But there are some. And I'm about to describe one of those hot spots.
If you, in your eagerness to post some controversial stuff, or in your sweet disposition feel posting the latest news on measles is the least you could do for your fellow Americans, forget to research what you are about to post -- We (you and I) are going to have problems remaining friends. Because when I find out that the nonsense you posted is total and complete bullshit, and that you just wasted valuable minutes of my life because I had to do the research your ass should have done before you posted about it, and THEN when I tell you that what you posted is bullshit and you refuse to take it off your time line without any explanation or clue that it is bullshit, thus continuing the spread of the false information ...
*takes big breath*
I'm going to delete your ass. I can't have stupid friends like you.
Just last night, I ran across a post on a "friend's" timeline about the ever terrifying illness Ebola. Now, I'm older than a few decades. I've been around for the real conspiracies regarding illnesses. And what I wasn't personally alive for, I know people who were -- and have heard from them. Yes, we had a government that covered up some serious shit. We had some people who were injected with diseases just to see what would happen. By the government. And let's not forget the cover up and mislabeling of AIDS in the 80's. And then, not so long ago, there was that whole thing with women losing their uterus and ability to carry children when our government dumped toxic waste in the middle of "nowhere" without telling residents in the area that they were being poisoned. And of course most of the people affected were minority women -- migrant workers and the like. So yes. We have a government that covers up shit. A lot of shit. But if you run across an article (ONE ARTICLE) that says there is an outbreak of Ebola in a city near you -- and there has been NOTHING on any of the other websites like, I don't know, MSNBC or CNN or nothing reported on any news station. Then you need to, for the sake of world peace, look into it. You have to. It's your duty. And when your misinformed ass decides to overlook the fact that this article came off of a website that has in it's description a disclaimer (A DISCLAIMER) that says that it's satirical and that nothing should be taken seriously and that names are made up except for with celebrities or sports figures, um ... then you really should listen to me (or anyone with a brain) when they say your article about the latest outbreak is bullshit.
But you don't. You leave that mess up on your timeline. You don't even acknowledge to your other friends or people who might come across the damn article that it's a farce. That it's satire. That it's false. You'd have your friends in a large metropolitan area freaking out. Running around scared. Using their time that they could have been using for something productive -- worrying about shit that they don't have to even worry about. Not to mention the number of calls generated to health officials, taking away time that they could be spending really dealing with this issue (and other issues that are far more pressing!)
I don't even think I can adequately put into words how much I can not stand people that spread around gossip bullshit on facebook or twitter or wherever. Not to mention my complete disdain for this website that thinks it's funny to spread a story around like it's a joke. It's not something to joke about.
I look up everything. Before I post anything on my page I look things up. Before I comment on something that has anything to do with real life problems or issues, I look shit up. I hate the thought of being made a fool of, so in the event I post something and someone tells me that I've just posted some bullshit, I'm taking it down. ESPECIALLY if it's spreading something harmful to a large group of people. People who are already scared. People who are already misinformed. Do you know what happens with a bunch of misinformed and scared people? Do you care?
So, I can't be your friend if you post nonsense like this. Mistakes happen. In our humanness we sometimes make mistakes. We like drama. Controversy. And as much as some of us hate to be scared or worried or angry, we sure gravitate towards things that make us feel all of these things. I'm guilty too. But I can't have it on my page anymore. I have to limit the bullshit I have and spread. And if you don't care about the truth and accuracy -- then ...
Unfriend.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Monday, October 6, 2014
Are You Coming Back?
When I was almost twenty-four years old, I got on a plane and headed to California. Just like that. I don't think I thought about it for more than a few days. It was something I felt I just needed to do. So, my Minnesota behind boarded a plane and landed in Sunny California. Or rather, what would have been Sunny California if it hadn't been in the middle of the night. My Auntie and Uncle and four-year-old cousin came to the Airport and picked me up. The first thing I noticed when I got out of the airport was the smog. And then the palm trees. I thought they were just movie props. And then we got on the freeway and headed "home."
The first night away from everything familiar (and I was not one of those kids who loved being home. I left every chance I got!) and it hit me. I was away from everything familiar. I was starting over. And there, next to my cousin, in a full size bed -- far away from the lakes and the mosquitoes and star filled nights and long summer days and fall leaves and the smell of spring when the snow just starts to melt, I started to sob. There was this finality to it. I knew, deep down in my heart, that I wasn't going to come back.
Ok. So, let me make things clear for everyone who is reading this (as well as J.S. who is probably thinking "oh hell no. You will go home, woman!"): I am planning on coming back to California.
This is what we are calling a long test run. I'll go for a month. See if we kill each other (we won't), See if I will be able to stand Omaha (It's just a town to me right now, I have no idea what it's about), check out the job markets and look at the schools and sort of have a vacation while meeting the rest of Jay's family. But I know that feeling. I had it when I got on the plane to come to California.
When I moved to California I was moving from a small one bedroom apartment that I solidified into a room at my then best friend Michelle's apartment. There were books and childhood things that I packed into boxes and had a friend of mine ship for a very good deal through his job that I shall not name in order to protect his not so innocent but willing to do anything for a good friend ass. It was strange sitting in a strange town with boxes of your life surrounding you. But those things kept me from feeling... lost.
Still, I was homesick. I had no intention of going back. But I was homesick. There is comfort in familiar.
So yes. I'm coming back. This time. But this trip is ... everything. It's the beginning of the shape of things without knowing what that shape might be.
My friends here are the ones who are reminding me of just how big of a deal it is -- this trip. I don't want to sound all deep and dark. It's not a sad thing. It's a big thing. There is a difference. It's an exciting big thing. That sounds pornographic. It's ... significant. And saying goodbye (for now) doesn't make me sad to the point that I'll change my mind. It makes me sad that I'm going to miss them, but that there is something so much better waiting for me. It makes me sad that I can't have both and that, given the choice, I would always choose her.
It's that feeling I had when I came to California way back in 1992: "I'll miss all of you. But I can give you up," my heart said.
It's saying that same thing now. For a much different reason, but the ending is the same. I can leave here for her. Not without effort, not without tears and feeling a bit homesick. But I can leave here. For her. For us.
It is so fucking worth it.
The first night away from everything familiar (and I was not one of those kids who loved being home. I left every chance I got!) and it hit me. I was away from everything familiar. I was starting over. And there, next to my cousin, in a full size bed -- far away from the lakes and the mosquitoes and star filled nights and long summer days and fall leaves and the smell of spring when the snow just starts to melt, I started to sob. There was this finality to it. I knew, deep down in my heart, that I wasn't going to come back.
Ok. So, let me make things clear for everyone who is reading this (as well as J.S. who is probably thinking "oh hell no. You will go home, woman!"): I am planning on coming back to California.
This is what we are calling a long test run. I'll go for a month. See if we kill each other (we won't), See if I will be able to stand Omaha (It's just a town to me right now, I have no idea what it's about), check out the job markets and look at the schools and sort of have a vacation while meeting the rest of Jay's family. But I know that feeling. I had it when I got on the plane to come to California.
When I moved to California I was moving from a small one bedroom apartment that I solidified into a room at my then best friend Michelle's apartment. There were books and childhood things that I packed into boxes and had a friend of mine ship for a very good deal through his job that I shall not name in order to protect his not so innocent but willing to do anything for a good friend ass. It was strange sitting in a strange town with boxes of your life surrounding you. But those things kept me from feeling... lost.
Still, I was homesick. I had no intention of going back. But I was homesick. There is comfort in familiar.
So yes. I'm coming back. This time. But this trip is ... everything. It's the beginning of the shape of things without knowing what that shape might be.
My friends here are the ones who are reminding me of just how big of a deal it is -- this trip. I don't want to sound all deep and dark. It's not a sad thing. It's a big thing. There is a difference. It's an exciting big thing. That sounds pornographic. It's ... significant. And saying goodbye (for now) doesn't make me sad to the point that I'll change my mind. It makes me sad that I'm going to miss them, but that there is something so much better waiting for me. It makes me sad that I can't have both and that, given the choice, I would always choose her.
It's that feeling I had when I came to California way back in 1992: "I'll miss all of you. But I can give you up," my heart said.
It's saying that same thing now. For a much different reason, but the ending is the same. I can leave here for her. Not without effort, not without tears and feeling a bit homesick. But I can leave here. For her. For us.
It is so fucking worth it.
Friday, October 3, 2014
On the Twelfth Day...
I know it's been forever since I've written. It's not that I don't have things to write about (or muse about. or bitch about. or laugh about...,) it's that I have so much on my mind that it's sometimes hard to squeeze it all into a topic I can write about in five or six paragraphs.
Since I can't sleep, I decided to just ... babble.
I'll be leaving for Omaha in twelve days. Janelle lives there in case you're wondering what the hell I'm doing moving to Omaha. And I'm not moving to Omaha YET. I'm just ... visiting Omaha. Trying it on for size. Seeing how we fit together. Omaha, I mean. Maybe Janelle, too. But mostly Omaha.
If you've caught Janelle's blog, you probably have heard that while Janelle and I have pretty much accepted the fact that we will be together indefinitely, there are certain things we haven't done yet. I'm pretty sure she mentioned that. Didn't she? Last few blogs, probably? Anyway... yeah. Ok, so this is the scoop on all of that.
When you're in a long distance relationship, there is this weird dichotomy. Part of you knows your girlfriend better than you know yourself. I know that in a few hours, she's going to wake up because she has to use the bathroom at the same time every morning. She'll message me in about five hours asking me if I am awake, and those texts will continue every hour (which really shows great restraint as I know she'd probably text me every five minutes because she has the patience of a fruit fly...as do I) until I wake up. I know when she's about to ask me what I'm doing. I know that as soon as I answer a question she asks me, she'll tell me "never mind, Babe" because she will have already found the answer on her own. I joke about us being an old married couple but I really believe that there's a large part of us that is. And it's cute. So I know her. I know what she's thinking a lot of times, and I also know that we can sit on the phone having conversations while neither of us talks. But it's more than all that cliche canned stuff. I know her. And I breathe with her even when I can't feel the rise and fall of her chest.
So while we know one another mentally, we still don't know each other all that well physically. We're still awkward for the first few hours -- matching what we have learned about one another with the actual physical being of the person we have come to know. It's strangely beautiful and scary as hell all at the same time. When we were in Minnesota, it took until the time she left (well, maybe a few days before) until I knew I knew her. Until the physical know of her matched up with the mental know of her. If that makes any sense. We were together for eleven days. This time we will be together for thirty something. In Minnesota we had eleven days where we were physically together many hours. This time I'll be physically getting to know her at the same time I'm physically getting to know a city. And she'll be working. It's likely that we may never be physical during the entire trip. I wish I could say "just kidding" after that statement.
Nope. Still not saying it.
We'll be fine. I'm not really all that worried. But it is interesting. And it does take a certain amount of patience and understanding because this whole Long Distance Relationship for over -- what? six months now? - is challenging. It's not at all easy. Very much worth it. But not at all easy. And I thought I'd be honest about it because it might help someone else who is insane enough to be in a long distance relationship. Some of the best art happens by a insane artist's hand. I'm just sayin'. ;)
All this trepidation aside, this is the happiest I've been in a long time. It's not just the Janelle Cupcake factor, it's moving towards something I want and need in my life. It's the starting on a new journey with someone who gets me, wants me, and loves me. It's taking a leap forward -- not knowing where I'll land, but knowing I'll be fine when I do.
Ready, set, go!
Since I can't sleep, I decided to just ... babble.
I'll be leaving for Omaha in twelve days. Janelle lives there in case you're wondering what the hell I'm doing moving to Omaha. And I'm not moving to Omaha YET. I'm just ... visiting Omaha. Trying it on for size. Seeing how we fit together. Omaha, I mean. Maybe Janelle, too. But mostly Omaha.
If you've caught Janelle's blog, you probably have heard that while Janelle and I have pretty much accepted the fact that we will be together indefinitely, there are certain things we haven't done yet. I'm pretty sure she mentioned that. Didn't she? Last few blogs, probably? Anyway... yeah. Ok, so this is the scoop on all of that.
When you're in a long distance relationship, there is this weird dichotomy. Part of you knows your girlfriend better than you know yourself. I know that in a few hours, she's going to wake up because she has to use the bathroom at the same time every morning. She'll message me in about five hours asking me if I am awake, and those texts will continue every hour (which really shows great restraint as I know she'd probably text me every five minutes because she has the patience of a fruit fly...as do I) until I wake up. I know when she's about to ask me what I'm doing. I know that as soon as I answer a question she asks me, she'll tell me "never mind, Babe" because she will have already found the answer on her own. I joke about us being an old married couple but I really believe that there's a large part of us that is. And it's cute. So I know her. I know what she's thinking a lot of times, and I also know that we can sit on the phone having conversations while neither of us talks. But it's more than all that cliche canned stuff. I know her. And I breathe with her even when I can't feel the rise and fall of her chest.
So while we know one another mentally, we still don't know each other all that well physically. We're still awkward for the first few hours -- matching what we have learned about one another with the actual physical being of the person we have come to know. It's strangely beautiful and scary as hell all at the same time. When we were in Minnesota, it took until the time she left (well, maybe a few days before) until I knew I knew her. Until the physical know of her matched up with the mental know of her. If that makes any sense. We were together for eleven days. This time we will be together for thirty something. In Minnesota we had eleven days where we were physically together many hours. This time I'll be physically getting to know her at the same time I'm physically getting to know a city. And she'll be working. It's likely that we may never be physical during the entire trip. I wish I could say "just kidding" after that statement.
Nope. Still not saying it.
We'll be fine. I'm not really all that worried. But it is interesting. And it does take a certain amount of patience and understanding because this whole Long Distance Relationship for over -- what? six months now? - is challenging. It's not at all easy. Very much worth it. But not at all easy. And I thought I'd be honest about it because it might help someone else who is insane enough to be in a long distance relationship. Some of the best art happens by a insane artist's hand. I'm just sayin'. ;)
All this trepidation aside, this is the happiest I've been in a long time. It's not just the Janelle Cupcake factor, it's moving towards something I want and need in my life. It's the starting on a new journey with someone who gets me, wants me, and loves me. It's taking a leap forward -- not knowing where I'll land, but knowing I'll be fine when I do.
Ready, set, go!
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