I've been unfriended. I am not a friend collector, so my number of Facebook contacts is small. Tidy; you can call it tidy. So I noticed when my number dropped recently. I couldn't figure out who it was for a while, so I guessed it was someone who wasn't really using Facebook anyway and closed their account. The fact that it was someone whose posts I didn't miss meant that it was obviously someone I wasn't close to, so I was not offended by the thought that my guess could be wrong and I was unfriended.
Offended still is not how I would characterize what I felt when I discovered who was missing from my friends list. Especially after reading this article on whether it's okay to unfriend acquaintances. What I felt was confused. The person is a friend from high school, who I hadn't spoken to since, and I'd only sent the friend request a few months ago. I would not have been upset if my request had been ignored in the first place. Since it was approved, I am left wondering if I offended my friend in some way, or if she, like myself, was simply keeping her friends list tidy. On the other hand, do I really want to know? I would certainly never put someone in the position of having to explain why I was removed from their friend list.
If I offended her somehow, I don't want to defend myself, or apologize: All of my Facebook friends are adults, and must know that on the Internet, offensive things lurk. If you are the type to unfriend someone whose viewpoint you find disagreeable, then I am relieved to no longer be on your friends list.
I don't think that was the case, though. Facebook is how I've reconnected with many people I hadn't had contact with for years, and I realize that I don't have a lot in common with many of them. We find people, we friend them, we learn what they're currently up to, and that's about it. What more is there to say? The thing I love best about Facebook is that I know where to find people if I need to. Just know that even if I don't comment on your status or message you directly often - or ever - doesn't mean I don't want you as a friend. I'm really just lazy.
9/26/2010
Barber 9/1/10
It's been 6 months since I shaved my head for St. Baldrick's, and I only just now need a haircut. The back grew too long, and my head was looking mullety. I hate it when my husband asks me to straighten up the back of his hair after he buzzes it, so I was reluctant to ask him for help trimming mine. But it had to be done, or I was going to lose a little more sanity each time I looked in the mirror. That lasted a couple of weeks, and now it's too long again.
My son also needs a haircut. My husband said I could decide when to cut it, and I love him for that. Bug's curls are adorable, and as wild and unruly as he is. I love ruffling his hair, calling him Mop-Top. I also put off his haircuts because I have cut his hair before, and while it turned out okay, it is not an endeavor I wish to undergo again. He is squirmy, that one, and my nervousness keeps me slow. Bug, however, has begun to notice his appearance. "My hair is cut wrong," he tells me, "I want it cut nice." "Like Daddy's?" I probe, not completely sure what he means. "Yeah, like Daddy's." Now I'm sure: he means buzzed. I suppose it's not just my decision anymore. Darn it.
I also tried trimming my daughter's hair not long ago, got maybe half an inch off (she needed much more), and was too afraid of messing up to continue. My mom used to trim my, and my siblings', hair all the time. I wonder if she got better with practice, or just assumed we'd never notice if our bangs were crooked. Then again, my mom can do plenty of things I can't do, like sew, bake a dish only once a year without needing a recipe, and use a hot glue gun without burning herself. Time for me to make appointments.
My son also needs a haircut. My husband said I could decide when to cut it, and I love him for that. Bug's curls are adorable, and as wild and unruly as he is. I love ruffling his hair, calling him Mop-Top. I also put off his haircuts because I have cut his hair before, and while it turned out okay, it is not an endeavor I wish to undergo again. He is squirmy, that one, and my nervousness keeps me slow. Bug, however, has begun to notice his appearance. "My hair is cut wrong," he tells me, "I want it cut nice." "Like Daddy's?" I probe, not completely sure what he means. "Yeah, like Daddy's." Now I'm sure: he means buzzed. I suppose it's not just my decision anymore. Darn it.
I also tried trimming my daughter's hair not long ago, got maybe half an inch off (she needed much more), and was too afraid of messing up to continue. My mom used to trim my, and my siblings', hair all the time. I wonder if she got better with practice, or just assumed we'd never notice if our bangs were crooked. Then again, my mom can do plenty of things I can't do, like sew, bake a dish only once a year without needing a recipe, and use a hot glue gun without burning herself. Time for me to make appointments.
9/16/2010
Life Coach 8/25/10
I am generally unadventurous. Bungee jumping? Only if I measure the cord myself, and it measures within my armspan. Cliff diving? Uh-uh. Spelunking? Never. Creepy old house? "No thank you," you hear, my voice quickly growing faint as I run to a safe distance of 3 towns away. Leisurely cruise? Ha! I've seen Titanic. But I love myself a good thrill ride. Amusement park, state fair, or carnival, I am in line for the biggest, baddest ride I can find. Rides that made me weep with longing when I was pregnant. Rides that are high off the ground, fast, dizzying, stomach-dropping, and preferably invert my person at some point. Rides with long lines that lesser-gutted people drop out of as the anxiety overwhelms them. Rides that are terrifyingly fun. In short, the awesome ones.
If I don't choose the right company to go to the fair with, I end up riding these rides by myself, or not at all. My sister - who lives out of state, naturally - was once the only one who would go on these rides with me, but now my daughter is growing to love these rides as well. Missey's been waiting impatiently to grow tall enough to ride the bigger rides with me, and I can't wait. Even last year, she was tall enough for many of them, and she and I had a blast riding together. She has yet to learn the lesson of inviting like-minded friends to the amusement park.
For her birthday this year, she wanted to go to the amusement park, and was able to invite a friend. This friend has a season pass to the amusement park, so, Great! I thought, she'll enjoy it. I didn't know until we started deciding which rides to go on, but when Friend had warned us earlier that she doesn't like roller coasters, she meant she was afraid of heights. I couldn't help but feel bad for Missey. Since her growing efforts over the past year had paid off, she was itching to ride the bigger rides, but chose not to, because her friend wouldn't. I expected disappointment, frustration, and even a little whining, but got none of those. "If Friend isn't happy, I'm not happy," is what I got. I guess the lesson my daughter has learned - one that I didn't understand until I was much older, unfortunately - is that even if it is your birthday, when the thing you want makes someone else unhappy, you won't enjoy it.
If I don't choose the right company to go to the fair with, I end up riding these rides by myself, or not at all. My sister - who lives out of state, naturally - was once the only one who would go on these rides with me, but now my daughter is growing to love these rides as well. Missey's been waiting impatiently to grow tall enough to ride the bigger rides with me, and I can't wait. Even last year, she was tall enough for many of them, and she and I had a blast riding together. She has yet to learn the lesson of inviting like-minded friends to the amusement park.
For her birthday this year, she wanted to go to the amusement park, and was able to invite a friend. This friend has a season pass to the amusement park, so, Great! I thought, she'll enjoy it. I didn't know until we started deciding which rides to go on, but when Friend had warned us earlier that she doesn't like roller coasters, she meant she was afraid of heights. I couldn't help but feel bad for Missey. Since her growing efforts over the past year had paid off, she was itching to ride the bigger rides, but chose not to, because her friend wouldn't. I expected disappointment, frustration, and even a little whining, but got none of those. "If Friend isn't happy, I'm not happy," is what I got. I guess the lesson my daughter has learned - one that I didn't understand until I was much older, unfortunately - is that even if it is your birthday, when the thing you want makes someone else unhappy, you won't enjoy it.
Communications Coordinator 8/18/10
I need a new phone. I'm not intimidated by technology - I worked technical support for years - but I do get easily overwhelmed with decisions. I am switching to one particular carrier, but even so there are a lot of phones to choose from. Blackberry? Windows Mobile? Android? Apps! I need apps!
My current phone has suited me fine. As with anything, there are pros and cons, but I'm not sick of my phone yet, even after two years. I just need my new phone to do everything my current phone does, and sure, I'll take an extra app or two. One more thing: can I please get phone calls this time?
I've had service with my current carrier for a few years. In that time, I have heard several times, "I tried to call you," only to realize that at the time they tried to call, my phone was sitting right next to me giving me the silent treatment (Come on, baby, I swear I barely glanced at that new iPhone, and I swore I would never do it again. Why can't you forgive me?). This issue occurred on two phones with this carrier; it has to be a service issue. I can compare phone features all day, but will still be taking a leap of faith as to whether my calls will come through with any reliability. Now that my husband is already using the carrier I will be switching to, we have discovered that he does not receive my texts, and I do not receive his calls. Ever the problem solvers, we decided that if he needs me he will have to text me, and if I need him I will have to call him. We are hoping that when I switch to his service we will have the freedom to choose our methods of communication, but until then, we will be playing phone-then-text-then-phone tag.
My current phone has suited me fine. As with anything, there are pros and cons, but I'm not sick of my phone yet, even after two years. I just need my new phone to do everything my current phone does, and sure, I'll take an extra app or two. One more thing: can I please get phone calls this time?
I've had service with my current carrier for a few years. In that time, I have heard several times, "I tried to call you," only to realize that at the time they tried to call, my phone was sitting right next to me giving me the silent treatment (Come on, baby, I swear I barely glanced at that new iPhone, and I swore I would never do it again. Why can't you forgive me?). This issue occurred on two phones with this carrier; it has to be a service issue. I can compare phone features all day, but will still be taking a leap of faith as to whether my calls will come through with any reliability. Now that my husband is already using the carrier I will be switching to, we have discovered that he does not receive my texts, and I do not receive his calls. Ever the problem solvers, we decided that if he needs me he will have to text me, and if I need him I will have to call him. We are hoping that when I switch to his service we will have the freedom to choose our methods of communication, but until then, we will be playing phone-then-text-then-phone tag.
9/10/2010
Yard Seller 8/11/10
I have junk. Lots of it. It's in my garage, and I'm pretty sure while I'm not looking it encroaches inch by inch onto the side of the garage reserved for my car when it snows. "Yard sale," I promise myself every weekend, but never act on. Until I did.
My mom knows two Internet presences: Hotmail and Craigslist. Wednesday we decided on the garage sale, and her first thought was, "We have to post it on Craigslist. SomeoneIKnow posted hers on Craigslist and had all kinds of people." This was one on me: I am always on the interweb tubes and had no idea people searched Craisglist for garage sale listings. But list our yard sale we did, complete with hours and directions. And come, people did not.
We also put up signs at the major intersections near my house. There were some customers, but it was not the bustling flea market I'd hoped it would be. The salt on the wound was that I happened to be reading a novel that opens with a yard sale in which our beloved main character pockets $1600.00. How is that even possible? In my experience, junk unloaders will sell you 5 coffee tables for a dime. We were selling clothing for a quarter per item, but it wasn't really moving. If it had, that $1600.00 would totally have been mine. If only I knew the secret formula for turning my no-longer-needed wares into glittering gems that cause those quarters to leap out of the bargain shoppers' pockets. Until then, donation will be my decluttering solution.
My mom knows two Internet presences: Hotmail and Craigslist. Wednesday we decided on the garage sale, and her first thought was, "We have to post it on Craigslist. SomeoneIKnow posted hers on Craigslist and had all kinds of people." This was one on me: I am always on the interweb tubes and had no idea people searched Craisglist for garage sale listings. But list our yard sale we did, complete with hours and directions. And come, people did not.
We also put up signs at the major intersections near my house. There were some customers, but it was not the bustling flea market I'd hoped it would be. The salt on the wound was that I happened to be reading a novel that opens with a yard sale in which our beloved main character pockets $1600.00. How is that even possible? In my experience, junk unloaders will sell you 5 coffee tables for a dime. We were selling clothing for a quarter per item, but it wasn't really moving. If it had, that $1600.00 would totally have been mine. If only I knew the secret formula for turning my no-longer-needed wares into glittering gems that cause those quarters to leap out of the bargain shoppers' pockets. Until then, donation will be my decluttering solution.
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