4 Score and Recently “Updated”

Studies of our prehistoric ancestors have shown that art, music, religion, dance, and even language itself, was a way to pass down our history, our traditions, our memories. In my lifetime, I remember reel to reel home movies. Slide projectors. Audio recordings. VHS tapes and BetaMax. And 76 pound photo albums. I have learned to do my own shitty attempt at a polka. I have ran my thumbs and index fingers across the patches of quilts made by great great grandmothers. I have slipped into the dress my grandmother wore on her wedding day. I have sat for hours upon hours watching my grandmother patch clothing while she told me stories of her childhood. I have sang and hopped in afternoons full of double dutch. I have prayed to a blue-eyed Jesus, well, in a church that was built before my grandparents were born, gazing at placards of devotion in memorium of people who died from diseases that have since been eradicated. This has spanned less than four decades. A blip in the inhale exhale of man.

As I ironically sit at a laptop typing to invisible eyes, I miss nostalgia. In the day of blogs, facebook, twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, I wonder, who are we compiling these memories for? When scrapbooking came back en vogue, I scoffed at it visibly, ever jealous that I knew I lacked such focus and dedication and follow through. It was time sucking, overly involved and  a cosumerist industry I had no time or desire for. After all, I had to go to work to pay for my wifi so I could spend my work day telling complete strangers what I ate for lunch.

Even at 38 years old, I adore a good scar story. I spend dreamy hours in vintage shops. I prefer clothing worn previously by a friend or stranger. I secretly pine for the day I get my grandmother’s dishes “over my mom’s dead body.” But what do I do with all this information, experience, and memory? Do I sit my niece down and try to explain the discomfort of shoulder pads in the 80s? Do I show her how we used to entertain ourselves…*gasp* OUTSIDE with only rocks, bugs and each other? Do I teach her how to roll biscuits and make frosting from scratch while I teach her the Polish word for “butt”? I’d like to say I do, but more often that not, I log her onto my Facebook. Within an hour of seeing each other, she’ll unfailingly ask if I have any new kitty pictures or videos or to show her my friend’s kids’ pictures ONLINE.

Though I’m not a mother, as an inhabitant of Earth, aren’t I obligated to pass the past the way our ancestors did? Word, written or ideally, spoken. Songs from my grandmother reminiscent of Sweden, my childhood church hyms declaring the joy joy down in my heart, and double dutch marches giving nods to jeans that we couldn’t afford but everybody wanted. My haphazard version of the Polka. My 76 pound photobox.  My ability to make and color play clay from scratch. Are these things still valuable if their not POSTED? Are we LIVING the experiences we share with anonymous masses via social networking? When you finish a collection on Pinterest or Instagram or WordPress, will you print them out and tangibly share them with our little people? Or will we, our collections, memories and existence all fade into the virtual nothingness that calls us “friend” or even worse, “follower?”

intermission

im glad that you now feel the responsibility. there are people we affiliate with that are unwell…as if we should speak, but we have the misfortune of outwitting our emotions, at times. i have cleared the shit for anyone who may have gotten victorian and need their moment. i will do it again. i always query why im so burdened, yet the first to be discarded…..sorry i think i wrote a poem there or something. im half buzzy, and now question if im allowed more than 4 hours, in humanities time, to feel joy. i feel each second that surpasses that, one is taken from the next incident. i feel so entitled to a moment of pleasure in anothers comany. sorry…i feel flowery.  could it be im raw and sincere and poetic?!?! if forced to answer, id protest too much. i maintain my relentlessness and integrity. proceed with the crucifixion and martyrdom. i accept. i am defined.

Unlikable

I dare not vie for your affections. Life has given me the brass to earn my own medals. I forge them myself,  from the solids of the earth. I am not the sword makers son, nor do I care to defeat you. I am also not seeking apprentices. My worth is in the fact that I am woman. Standing alone is not in my lineage, but if it must…I shall pioneer. There are many before me who haven’t fallen to the need for false community, and alas..  I am not a casualty. Here I stand…Forthright. Perfection has never rested on my palate. That would not suit a creature of my devices. In my journey I shall surpass you. My endurances exists to surpass your families’ lifetimes. Though I do not judge, I also do not expire. I do not end. My existence is infinite. Your failure to learn is of no consequence to me. There have been Gods. Monuments have been built. I am exasperated in thinking my time here is to help you. My time is to be exemplary. Choose your path wisely and reevaluate what another being means to you. I may have words to scribe things of this this ilk, but I will no longer be bothered by you. When you can choose your righteousness you shall see me. I am here…in peace…for reconciliation. For now, this is all I can say. Judge not, lest ye be judged.. If you have worth, you will be here for a bit. ❤

bookface

though i often feel that i enjoy my time on them, social networks are kind of the scourage or blemish on the face of humanity. im bombarded by a lot of information that im probably better off NOT knowing. its basically STALKING ABOVE THE LAW. its almost a civilian version of TMZ or other media whoring devices, if you will. somethings are way too personal, none of my business, very extraneous and sometimes emotionally painful to me. there were times id spend 2 hrs going back 3 years on somebodys shit. seriously?!?!

the upside is getting to stay in touch with the people who may be too far or busy to get together often. but if our relationships were that important, couldnt they call? or email? or god forbid write a letter? i think if its a solid and true relationship, interaction outside of social networks is pertinent.

i found that being “friends” with somebody you “date” isnt the best idea either. its lack of tone and context can be very confusing. girls are natural stalkers so i dont need it to be made so easy and effortless. true stalking skirts the law as opposed to being “legal”. what fun is that? NONE!

since my week break from facebook, ive found myself utilizing it differently, less and more functionally. i keep in touch with the people im writing with and the people i exchange music with. i just dont feel like throwing myself at its mercy anymore. and i dont need to spend 3 hrs everyday going back in the feed to see whos kid walked, who has cramps, what a dick boyfriend did now, how wasted you were etc…

or do i?!?! i mean its totally legal and we must mutually desire a “friendship”. so until they have a true tracker, which they never will…try proving that anything i just said was true (:

Day 6

So odd to see the reduction in my facebook usage. This was a great idea. My productivity may not have greatly increased, but I feel more human. I’m now utilizing it as I believe is appropriate: in moderation.

Today I woke up at 10am. I proceeded to shower and get semi-girly. My friend Ben took me to lunch and gifted me 5x over. It was a nice afternoon. I REALLY NICE afternoon. My evening has been spent watching movies, eating steak, drinking wine and rum. (thanks BEN<3)

Anxiety, as a whole, is down. I’m not more engaged in my life per se, but I dont feel as empty as I did. Obsessing over facebook for 8 hours a day was in no way healthy. I could liken it to an addiction of sorts. It was all too consuming. Stalker status was definitely met, and I’m not cool with that!

I have a little peace in my life thanks to re-finding  other activities that I enjoy to occupy me: movies, reading, writing, and just spending quiet alone time…a little less of a lonely soul at a keyboard.

Day 3-Day 4

Aside from avoiding the time suck of facebook, I’ve also been fighting my own life and inner demons. Watching the fog of facebook obsession lift, I’m beginning to discern what negativities  may be intertwined between the two concerns.

Last night, I again reclaimed my day at 830pm. My brother helped me with a transportation issue that seems to be “smoothed”, even if momentarily. I fell asleep by 2am, which seems like a child’s bedtime compared to the past few days. Despite a horrible nightmare an hour later, I managed to drag ass out of bed at 7am. This will all lead me to actually making it to my shit stain job today! Today I’ll receive a pittance of a paycheck, a supplemental unemployment payment, be able to use my “magic grocery card money”, get some stuff from the dollar store, and some food and litter for the cat.

I don’t expect an award for any of this. My facebook abstinence hasn’t had true integrity, but it’s no longer as compelling as it was. Three day hump?!?! I sure hope so. I’ve already decided that when I revisit my relationship with the old FB, it will no longer consume me to the same degree. There was something that spoke to the 3 of us that backed us away, in the same time frame. Not speaking from a stance of conceit, but from what I can tell, our absence could have made facebook lose some of it’s luster to our friends and loved ones. I hope this impacts us all in a positive way.

One more thought, iterating this here, with an ultimate set of goals, is WAY more positive and effective than my multiple status updates on facebook. I’ve lost my concern for a virtual validation in the form of a “like” or “comment”. Anyone that truly knows me, my passion for writing, and gives a true damn, is able to keep tabs on inner JMiz right here. Day 4 is starting to feel, dare I say good. Laters fb…see ya in a few…maybe.

End of Day 2

After the stress and crying today, I gave up on any type of housework productivity. I walked to my car to run to the little store in my complex, and my car was dead AGAIN! After I came back in my apartment, I decided to reclaim my day, even if it was 830pm.  I put on a puffy coat, gloves and hoofed it in the freezing cold. It’s really only about 7 blocks-ish. As I walked, I thought to myself, “FUCK MY LIFE! FUCK THIS DAY! Anyone weaker would have stayed inside and cried some more. The adrenaline will lift my mood. Walking will tire my restless body and help me sleep. Fresh air always makes you tired. (my gramma always said this) I’ll be back in less than 30 minutes. Fuck that guy for being a douche! I’m not ruining a whole day over an asshole chicken shit move like that. Holy Christ is it cold. I’m making dinner when I get back if my toes don’t fall off. Screw it! I’m getting a bottle of wine too bitches! Watch, after I’m all cozy my friend will call about going out!”

I made it home in one cube. Then I cozied up with the cat and a blankie till I defrosted. For dinner I made pepper steak. Laughing at SNL, food and wine in hand, I forgot that crap of a morning full of fatigued tears I blamed on the demise of an imaginary relationship. I forgot a little more about my brothers bender. The dried tears on my face and hands and phone irritated me, so I washed up a little.

As I sit here, as so many times before, the lonely soul at a keyboard, I’m compelled to wallow. Unfortunately, a few years back my angsty soul decided to proceed in optimism and strength. Maybe it was all the scars that toughened my skin and I should embrace them. There’s even a possibility I can take my power back from them. Maybe even use the power to shine them up pretty, or at least back to my normal pale color. I’m not religious, but couldn’t an ordinary person endure suffering for others as well? Could I be an example to my family, my friends, and hopefully my niece? I’d like to think that. When life throws me lemons, I throw them all back but one. I like a twist in my martini. Cheers facebook! It’s been a pleasure missing you.

1/2 DAY 2

I had a shit night. My friend was drunk and off the deep end. Talking her down and to sleep wore me out in every way. Since I couldn’t fall back to sleep, I texted a friend who sent me stories about Venom and Spiderman til I fell asleep. I woke up feeling okay, better, not great. When I turn on my phone, I see i was “dumped”. (via text…from Florida…by a 25 year old…that I didn’t realize was my “boyfriend”) Then I cried for 3 hours. I ate a bratwurst. It was disgusting, which pissed me off since as I was cooking it, I thought how I wished bratwurst grew on trees and I had a bratwurst tree…and a peach margarita drinking fountain. Add in starting, stopping, restarting the same movie 5 times. Chatted on IM a little. Talked to Ben. Called my mom 3 times. Fed the cat twice. Got stood up for dinner and shopping by my friend. Read a blog. I don’t miss facebook. I miss having a life. I miss having somebody to love and it’s okay to love them. I miss just being angry and not giving a shit if I understood or not.  I miss writing flowery and gratuitously romantic run on sentences as opposed to lists of things. Incomplete thoughts. I miss not trying so damn hard to forget so many things. I miss holding hands. I miss video game Sundays. I miss cuddling. I miss smelling a shirt.  I miss missing…I think I am missing.

Day 1

Today was the first 24 hours in an attempt at 168 hours without facebook. Oddly, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. I cheated once, through my yahoo account to reply to a time sensitive invite for my niece and myself for a play date. Throughout the day, I’d log on my meembo account to chat. My facebook account logs on with the rest of the chat accounts I have, but is that a cheat?!?! My day had much more free time. These are the things I got done today:

-Rent payment (which I’m behind on)

-All dirty clothes washed

-All clean clothes folded and hung

-Closet completely reorganized

-Ran a load of dishes and hand washed the rest

-FINALLY tracked down “that smell”

-Made some tweaks to my blog appearance

-Mentally began cultivating an idea for an entry to a zine I contribute to

-Called my mom 6 times

-Spent 20 minutes with my brother

-Washed my garbage can

I sit here and remember a time, not long ago, there wasn’t so much to “catch up” on. The work I did today is probably 1/5 of what I need to do in order to get “back to good.” The oddest thing was, I often wondered if my time at a PC encouraged my cats bad behaviour, my cat was a horror today. I spent time playing with him more so than usual. He was fed on his norm schedule. We napped. Today was the worst he’s acted in weeks. I, myself, was a little more upbeat. So i wonder…what came first: the facebook or the sloth? Did facebook help cultivate negativities in my life, or was it an outlet for me to “deal” or forget about them? I have another 144 hours to afford the opportunity to dissect these quandaries. At this moment, I must admit, I feel a little less lonely holding my relationships closer to my heart and devoid of the constant validation. I’d rather not be “connected” and so easily accessed. My old romantic soul has always been a big fan of the road that pining leads me down…Though I am a step further away from my “friends”, I now begin to wonder, am I a little closer to me?!