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Showing posts from November, 2018

The Silence Is Worse

I fully prepared for friends to pepper me with the 'Dude, why did you unfriend me?' line of questioning when I deactivated my bookFace account.

What I did not prepare for was a complete lack of response. Of course, my anxiety disorder manifests itself in such a way that I tend to rabbit-hole, a.k.a. overthink, damn near everything.  The meds help on most days. And to be fair they are probably helping right now, because instead of my mind being curled into a ball onto itself over this, I'm left with a thought of Huh, isn't that interesting. No one gives a shit.

And I'm not super upset, but it would be nice to be missed.

Those are the thoughts that ping pong in my head. But then I remember that the Facebook 'feed/wall/whateverinthefucktheyarecallingitthisweek' algorithm sucks dick and most people don't really notice when people that were part of their online life suddenly drop off.

And that's cool.

It truly is. I told like 5 people that I deactivated …

Saying Goodbye..and Hello

For some time now I have struggled with an addiction. Well, several in all likelihood. But the one I refer to spefically in this post is the  addiction to Facebook, and to some extent all social media. Facebook is by far the worst, at least for me.

Today I said goodbye, well sort of. I actually just deleted my account without so much as a ‘I’m running away from Facebook for a while to clear my head and take back my life’ post. Even though that’s exactly what I’m doing. I took the app and it’s dumb lumpy cousin, Messenger, off of my phone a couple of weeks ago. I still found myself opening up both in the browser on my phone. So, I didn’t actully cut the cord, I just changed my access. Instead of getting my fix at home in the safety of my bedroom, I had to go see that skeevy guy behind the bowling alley that always smells of stale kimchee and fresh cat piss.

After downloading my entire FB life up to now, I deactivated the account with fanfare. I had a couple of moments of weakness where…

The Day After The Day After The Day

It’s 3 in the afternoon on a Sunday and I’m sitting in Starbucks.  According the calendar, I’ve just recently had a birthday. My birthday was on the day after Black Friday. Black Friday is one of the busiest days for my company as I work for a national electronics retailer. It is THE day. That makes today the day after the day after the day. 
As I posted already on Facebook, I feel a sense of gratitude and thanks for everyone that took a few moments out of their day to wish me a happy birthday. 
It truly was a happy birthday. I actually started the birthday on Friday, after work. I hit a local retailer for a few records that were released on Black Friday. And I also went to Target and upgraded a particular piece of tech that I had been wanting to update for quite a little while now. The new tech should hopefully last me a few years. 

I spent my birthday kind of just doing my own thing. I went to an antiques show at the Ohio Fairgrounds. I picked up a typewriter and a camera. Then I had …

Giving Thanks

I started to write a post on Facebook for what I was thankful for today. Then something hit me. I could post it there. You would see it (or you wouldn't, depending on where you ranked in Facebook's "You should see this person's post" algorithm). And then it would just fall off. It might pop back up next year or in 3 years as something I remember. Good Lord, if I'm still sucking on FB's teat in 3 years, please fucking shoot me. 

But here, on my blog, I'm free to stretch out, there are no ads to distract me as I type this. My best friend is sitting on the other end of the couch working on her plot to take over the literary world (and later, the literal world). There's a little white-haired, neurotic furball curled up on the middle cushion. My belly is full, and my soul is sated.

Life is good.  Actually, that's not quite true. Life is neither good nor bad, but I am good.

Today I'm thankful for the fact that I got to see my daughter. She has g…

What Is An ML?

I'm a writer. 
If you know me, or have come to know me in the last few years, you know that I used to have a hard time saying that sentence. Let's be honest here. There are still some days that I say it, but I'm not sure I quite believe it. 
Every year, just to see if I can drive myself completely crazy in 30 days, I participate (yes, willingly) in an event called the National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to see if I can write 50,000 words in a month. The hope is that the words will be A) coherent, and B) presumably part of a book or story that I will then go back and turn into something that I will actually let other people read. 
I've been doing it since 2015. 2015 was a waste. I didn't have a clue what I was doing. Again, some days I don't think I have a clue. 
Something changed in 2016. That was the year I found myself in not one, but two writing groups.
And something crazy happened. I finished my first draft of my first book. 
2016 was the first year t…