Tag Archives: #deletefacebook

Fungible People [RDP]

What a coincidence that fungible is one of the prompts for today… I was ruminating (moo!) on the concept last night, using a lot of words and metaphors, but never coming up with this one. Fungible is always used with things like money and oil, not people ~ but why can’t it be used with people?

One of the reasons I’m becoming more introverted with age is due to my feeling that so many people view others as interchangeable objects. And I dislike this obviously. I had the sense as a young mom that other moms were my “friends” only because it was convenient. Once it stopped being convenient, the friendship dissolved. Example: I thought I was close friends with R, and we did many fun things together with our kids, but then she needed someone for a carpool and I couldn’t do it, so she asked A, who could. I literally never heard from R again. I was easily switched out with another person. Fungible.

I find it interesting that almost all my Facebook “friends” have disappeared since my exit. I basically have the same friends I had pre-FB ~ a handful of writers and meatspace peeps. Those FB connections were a pile of meaningless fluff, nothing to any of us, and only a way for Mark Z and the advertisers to rake in bucks. Since I’m not special, I’ll presume to say it’s the same for everyone. Just so you know.

After my divorce, I had the silly idea that divorced men would also be looking for the right person, not wanting to make another mistake late in life, etc. But this is mostly not true. They are looking for anyone who vaguely fits into a mental cutout they have labeled “girlfriend” (or “hookup” as the case may be). Anyone who fits will do, and if she leaves, he’ll easily replace her with another, or try to. We’re all fungible.

More and more, I only enjoy interacting with my family (and a few close friends): as the mom, I’m not fungible. No one can take my place. No one has ever replaced my mother. I still think about her every day. ❤️

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Good News

On this auspicious day, when a swollen ego got knocked off the major platforms of play and had to take his nasty ball of hate away, I mark the occasion with a resplendent hip hip hooray!

Free speech? Sure, if you’re not promoting violence and inciting spirals of real-world bullying and harm, slandering folks, etc. I hope this ushers in a new era when people are held to TOS all around. I realize it’s a huge task, but there was a time when, forex, Facebook required “real names” and it wasn’t so easy for bots to flood in with fake emails. It wouldn’t be that hard to require a ping to a credit card and location coordinates before allowing a new account.

But of course if all you care about is making a billion bucks a minute then you will only pretend to be concerned about security. That’s another issue. We can still be happy that Conspiracy Dude got kicked off the sites. Rah!

Double rah! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Stats up the WaZOO

I can’t keep pace with many of the new bloggers I’ve discovered this year, but even though I don’t match their prodigious daily output, I’m certainly happy to have them in my feed. Such a fab variety of creative writings and so many diverse POVs! Love that. Lots of these peeps talk about their stats and I don’t pay much attention to mine, except to occasionally whine that no one has bought any of my books lately so why do I even bother yada then I get over it.

This morning I decided to check my actual bloggeroo stats and I took screenshots so I could share. I figured hey now what would my blogfans like to do on a nice weekend… beach, BBQ, hike, bike, garden… ? Nahhh. They’ll wanna peruse my stats.

First, not counting this poast, I have a grand total of 519 poasted poasts since I began this blog on March 25, 2011 with a cupcake. I have deleted a lot of poasts, mostly complaints about dating sites/men because I thought, ha ha, I might meet a new man, and I wouldn’t want him to see all that bitching, since of course he’d read my blog cover to cover yet wouldn’t know a thing about the Wayback Machine: Dating Logic 🙄. Thank gawd that’s over. There are months of little to no activity when I was busy moving or getting divorced. I also used to spend much of my free social media time on Facebook, but I quit there this March because #facebooksucks. Since then, I’ve been blogging much more, yayyy.

Second, I have 1,045 total comments, as follows.

Many bloggers have a higher hit ratio of likes, but I am pleased with this.

My most commented-on poast, by far, remains The Duke vs. the Secretary (which is also my most-viewed poast, natch), from way back in June 2011.

Third, commenters. This, my friends, is where things may get a little bit hairy. Are you ready for some drama? Buckle up! Year after year, when I poast the stats WordPress gives me on their Happy New Year’s card, Roy wins top commenter. It’s just the Way Things Are. But right now, in the doldrums of August, lil Miss PJ has snuck up on Roy and edged him out of the top spot! ZOMG!

(By “top” I mean second, obviously. I’m always Numero Uno.)

Don’t panic, Roy! There’s still enough time before the end of the year for you to regain your title. Hell, it’s anyone’s game really. Just comment your hearts 💕 out, folks! It’s not too late!

Btw, I think it’s only fair to mention that Stan was my very first commenter, back on the cupcake poast we discussed several paras ago. You’re all still with me, right? Good. There may be a quiz after.

Finally, I will finish up with the observation that my topics of noodling, fun, and whatever have the most views, which are basically the topics about nothing. Give the people what they want, I always say.

Actually I never say that. I simply enjoy going on and on and on about absolutely nothing. And I would keep doing it even sans validation. But validation is a lovely thing. See? Kbai. More later!

PS: Forgot to mention that I’m following 510 blogs (this constantly increases), and have 333 WordPress followers. I have other followers not on WP ~ email, twitter, and just regular peeps. Love you all, mwah! Kbai for reals.

Addicted to News [mini-rant]

What is it about other people’s drama that’s so enticing to read about? While I’ll always click on a cute kitty story, I find myself drawn even more to the negative news loops like a gawker at a traffic accident. Even when I already know the gist, I’ll click to see yet another POV ~ and then be disgusted with myself for wasting my own time. Stop!

Whether it’s politics or entertainment (not that there’s much diff), I am a glutton for punishment, stuffing myself at the 24-hour buffet of stupid “news.” And then I have the nerve to whine right here on my own blarg that wah wah I can’t find the time to write fiction any longer.

I told myself that quitting Facebook would free up loads of extra time, and it has, but I’ve been spending it reading about the Karjenners. Gahhh.

But seriously, Kylie is cuter sans the fillers.

Ch-ch-changes

I just downloaded the WordPress app and so far it seems fabulous! They’ve really improved it since I tried it a zillion years ago. It takes a lot of motivation for me to deviate from my habits, so this is a big deal, blogging from an app. Truth be told, I’m a bit resistant to apps in general, misliking the idea of cluttering up my phone with icons. Why can’t I just use my browser? But this WP app is very nice. Very nice indeed. Of course, now I’ll need to d/l more apps to even out the row, but never mind that.

My motivation is partly due to the fact that blogging from a phone browser is rather clunky, and while I have a semi-solution in my old Kindle Fire, it’s still imperfect. (Hard to access media from there.) Also, I like using one device. I already have a sweet Kindle for reading and the Fire is pure backup, which I like to keep at home.

Isn’t this fascinating? I thought my fans would be enthralled with an OCD data dump.

I’m feeling good about all the things I’ve abandoned along the path toward enlightenment, or death, whichever comes first ~ husbands, real estate, dating sites, Facebook, fiction writing, and thigh highs. Thank gawd I never have to wear stupid thigh highs again! What a dumb invention.

Oh, and sushi. Blech!

Regarding Writer’s Block

Jenga

Dusty commented about WB in my last poast. It’s true that I can’t seem to sit down and force myself to write the things I believe I “should” write, such as the next short story in my epic collection of long connected stories, or even finish one of Anna’s hot romances I’ve left in limbo. But that doesn’t mean I can’t write anything ~ in fact, I’ve been blogging a ton (have actually deleted several ridiculously verbose and pointlessly rambling poasts in the last several weeks before I hit publish), emailing a bunch, and tweeting a twitload. I have even poemed a bit. It’s just the fiction I’m not into any longer and thus have given it up.*

Fiction writing feels like regression. Maybe that’s a lazy copout, but it’s how I feel right now. Writing fiction was an escape from bad times in my life, and my life is no longer bad. I don’t need an escape into a fantasy world of make-believe characters I focus on instead of my own situation. Unlike poetry, which stimulates my love for language, wordplay, and brief, intense emotional exploration, writing fiction feels hollow and fake. (This doesn’t apply to fiction reading at all, which I still love. Or movies dur!)

Writing about real events, however ~ slightly enhanced for entertainment value ~ such as the “dating stories,” is still a lot of fun for me. I was going to write about my trip to the wilds of Los Angeles last Tuesday, the crazy Bentley who tailgated me (a freaking Bentley!), the trippy sidewalks, my adorable granddaughter (I’m a grandmother now, if you didn’t know), etc., but there wasn’t any outstandingly funny moment to regale y’all with, and I’m all about the regaling.

[Just had to delete some amusing nonsense about regal and regaling because the words aren’t related. Dictionaries are our friends! But eccentric comes from outside the circle of normal, which was the WOTD yesterday, and since I can’t sleep in this heat even with a Valium and it’s now tomorrow, that word is definitely appropriate.]

Now, at this point you may be wondering if this poast isn’t one of those ridic rambles that should go into the trash heap… no! First, this is an experiment to see if it’s easier to blog from my old Kindle, since it’s larger than my phone and has a more finger-friendly keyboard. Second, it allows open tabs to be visible at the top, like a puter, which is helpful for switching back and forth when looking stuff up while blogging. Third, it’s difficult to create links when blogging by phone (have not tried the WordPress app) ~ basically have to write them down on a piece of paper and type them in again like a cavewoman. But on my Kindle I can copy and paste like a normal person. However, there is one issue: my bitmojis! I only have access to media already uploaded to WP, no new bitmojis or photos on my phone, since this thing isn’t connected to my phone. Of course, I could save this as a draft and then reopen it on my phone, where all my pics are. But that is not exactly an efficient, streamlined operation, is it now?

I put the previously used Jenga blocks up top, meh. Other solutions were: (1) use a previous bitmoji that didn’t really go with this poast; (2) use an ugly stock WP photo of blocks; or (3) begin some complicated process of installing an app on my phone that will give my Kindle access to photos, but it is 3am and I don’t wannu.

There is a rumor going around I might be getting a Mac, which will render all this angsting obsolete, but in the meantime… the blog abides.

*One of my friends said he learned in a yoga class recently that stress damages the brain and is potentially one of the leading causes of dementia. So, this just proves I’m on the right track giving up stressful things like dating, Facebook, fiction writing, etc. If only I could give up driving, that would be AWESOME!

Oh, now I have to stick on all the tags that will allegedly attract zillions of readers to this poast. Bwahahaha!

Menagerie

Shamelessly mirroring one of the blogs I follow, I’m going to combine prompts in a wild menagerie.

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Last night I was riveted to Twitter as I followed the saga of #MPRRACCOON. If you’ve been away from the news, this was about a plucky lil “trash panda” who got trapped on the ledge of an office building in St. Paul, MN, and when some workers tried to rescue her, she scampered onto the UBS tower next door and started climbing up up up. Now, some of you may remember the story I poasted a while back of a raccoon who killed one of our parking lot cats. Since then, I’ve not had a favorable view of the creatures. But all that changed yesterday as I (along with loads of other folks) rooted for the Twin Cities bandit to make it through her ordeal safely. We held our collective breath as she began to climb again, hoping she wouldn’t plummet to the ground. She stopped, went down, and seemed to be done for the night. I went to bed not knowing her fate and checked Twitter as soon as I woke this morning, so happy to see she had made it to the roof!

Speaking of buildings, the other night I had a very weird dream. I was in a house with my daughter and we couldn’t find our cats. So, naturally we decided we needed to look in our other house. I love that in my dreams I have not only one, but two houses! Yay me. We walked outside into the snow ~ apparently it was normal for there to be snow in southern California, but it wasn’t that cold. We didn’t have coats on and just tramped through the snow in our regular shoes. Crunch, crunch. We did remark on it, like oh yeah, it snows now ever since the something. I wish I could remember what “the something” was in my dream. I’m sure it was important. Anyway. We entered house number two, and there were the kitties. But inside this house everything was all snowy. I guess roof construction hadn’t caught up with “the something” yet.

The most vivid dream I ever had was when I was around 7 years old. I was at the zoo and a wolf either got loose from an exhibit or I entered his cage by mistake. He trapped me in a corner and ripped out my throat and I died. I know you’re not supposed to die in dreams, but I did. Then I woke up and had strep throat. This is not to bash wolves. I have huge respect for them and wildlife in general.

That’s it for the prompts, except one, and nope I am not introducing zoobloggery to my repertoire here ~ it’s just a coinkydink that all the snippets have to do with aminals this time. Soon we will be back to noodling about movies, food, and migraines, patting myself on the back again for leaving Facebook and dating sites, whining about writing, etc. You know, all the topics that make this blog so darned irresistible to fans everywhere. Until then… mwah!

My Trophy Life

For a long time, I thought I was doing online dating incorrectly and that’s why I was always so unhappy about it. Whenever I’d poast about it here, that feeling would be reinforced by all the (well-meaning) advice I received. I’ve deleted most of those poasts because they and their comments annoyed me in retrospect. After five and a half years of online dating (including some breaks), I gave it up for good around a year ago. As it turns out, I wasn’t doing it wrong ~ it’s just wrong for me and many others like me. Millions of people. Not talking about the creepy process of selecting our dates by specs like we buy a TV off Amazon, though that’s horrible enough. Not even talking about the brutal way we reject people because they have a scratch and we think we deserve a flawless model no matter how imperfect we are ourselves, nope. Talking about this:

Last year, Match.com released a volunteer-based study on recent dating trends. Although the survey wasn’t scientific, the results were revealing. Almost one in six singles (15%) reported feeling addicted to the online process of looking for a date. Millennials were 125% more likely to say they feel addicted to dating. Men were 97% more likely to feel addicted to dating than women, but 54% of women felt more burned out by the process. [Source]

It’s addicting for people who get addicted to things, and that’s a lot of people, myself included. Hell, I just became briefly addicted to Spider Solitaire after Windows 10 updated itself and installed it on my machine. OOH WHAT’S THIS? Must play game. I played 135 games. In less than a week. They sent me a notice that I’d flipped over 10,000 cards and I got very excited. It was a gold trophy. SHINY! Got a few more goodies. Then I thought wtf am I doing? I’m supposed to be writing a novel, hello. So, I deleted the entire app from my laptop.

Every time I joined a dating site I told myself I’d just be chill and let things unfold. But that isn’t my way. It’s just not. I had to check out the profile of every man in my area who fit my criteria. I had to try to figure out why someone rejected me if they viewed me and didn’t say hello. I’d make up my own stories about each one. I overanalyzed every chat. If a man criticized me in some way or was drive-by mean, I took it personally. It was hard to shrug that off. On and on. And these were the guys I never even met!

But people with OCD are particularly susceptible to spending too much time fussing over stuff in general (obviously), and for whatever reason technology tends to exacerbate that tendency. Online dating is like a game, isn’t it? Or a job hunt. We are driven to “win” or to achieve a goal, whatever that means to the individual, and we keep playing, clicking, swiping, liking, checking, turning over cards, whatever, until we get that shiny trophy. And then what? Well. There’s a question for another day.

In the meantime, here’s a study from 2016 that links addiction to mobile devices with depression and anxiety. Again, it’s more relevant for people who already have issues with OCD in the first place. An online dating site is that perfectly irresistible magic mix of toxic elements coming together for someone prone to anxiety. Definitely not a safe place for someone like me, which I always suspected. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, except for joining to begin with! Those sites fed my existing problems and that’s why I became miserable while dealing with them.

It wasn’t me; it was them. This last year has been so much better since I gave up online dating, and even better still in the last two months since I left Facebook and Instagram. Onward to more shiny goodness!

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The Persistence of Me

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I confess I don’t know much about Tom Wolfe (RIP), but have only begun learning about his brilliance this past week from his obits and write-ups in the news. Of course I’ve used the phrase “The Me Decade” to describe the 1970s, never even knowing that he coined it. How embarrassing! I’m adding The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and Bonfire of the Vanities to my reading list.

I think a strong argument can be made that the Me Decade hasn’t ended and shows no signs of abating anytime soon. All the selfies and oversharing, plus the endless quiz-taking, are encouraged by industries whose purpose is to make us feel insecure about ourselves, and are part of an infinite loop of superficial self-examination, wasting our time and energy as we search for enlightenment in our belly button lint, rather than expanding our horizons outward for fulfillment. I’m no stranger to these behaviors myself.

But something interesting has happened, a small thing, but interesting nevertheless: since I quit Facebook and Instagram two months ago, I haven’t taken any photos of food. My life is no worse for this; I don’t miss these pics at all. In fact, that was simply another superficial way to “connect” with people online when we really had nothing in common. In my opinion, this obsession with selfies, including food pics (unless you’re a restaurant critic or recipe blogger), is part of the narcissistic sickness of society. Notice me! Like me! Follow me! We see our favorite celebrity posting 857 photos of their face and we think we should too. It’s headshot day! Gah.

I suggest that the me-ness of the Me Decade never disappeared but instead spilled into online life, splashing over all we did, turning the entire social media experience from information-based, when it began, to communication-based, for a time, and finally now into a monstrous narcissistic ouroboros that not only controls how we behave online but offline too. We are even more self-centered now than we were in the 1970s despite allegedly “connecting” with all sorts of people different from us all over the world. We don’t actually do this in any kind of meaningful way. I doubt most of us even begin to relate to people in our own neighborhoods and what issues they might have in this primary election, if they are different from our own. All I see is people ready to bully, disparage, and dismiss anyone who thinks differently from them, more now than ever.

If you don’t conform to my reflection of myself, I push you out of the picture. Turn the camera back to selfie mode. Ah, much better. Smile. Click.

*

I know some of you probably thought I would jabber on about the narcissists I’ve dated and link to my new poetry book All She Wrote, which explores quite a bit on that theme, when you saw the prompt “narcissism”… well, surprise! I actually do have otter things to say sometimes besides look at my stupid mistakes. 😀

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Narcissism

Popularity Observation

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I’m not a popular blogger. Not sure I want to be ~ I had a tiny taste of it many years back and it was a lot of work. I constantly checked my stats and felt as if I failed when I didn’t keep outperforming the previous week’s totals. Every day I pressured myself to write at least two posts and one needed to be funny. I tried to find ways to link other bloggers in posts. I also made sure to visit many other blogs daily, old friends and new hopefuls, and leave comments to encourage them to visit me. Ughhh! Needless to say, just like my Facebook obsession, this left little to no time for Real Writing. And it was pointless as well ~ the blog was neither monetized nor promoting any writing. It was simply an exercise in ego.

Now? Some days I get less than 10 visitors here, though it’s hard to tell if more are simply reading via a reader or in email. Visits are only recorded from click-throughs. Usually a day with a new post will generate 20 or more visitors, but not always. If I link to the word of the day, I’ll get more. I haven’t SEO’d my blog, and I’m not even sure what that is, but it seems fake, like fake FB friends. Why would I want that? Are those people going to leave real comments and care about what I say? Are they ever going to be interested in buying my writing on Amazon? Hah.

I know some of my fellow bloggers must be SEO’d up the wazoo because their post will appear in my reader as an hour old and already have 200 likes. WTF? And it’s a poem or something, not exactly the most popular form of writing out there, but yet 200 people have somehow found it and liked it. Right. That happens. What does this mean? Does it translate to money? How much? I suppose I could google this properly, but why not just fling my question to the winds and wait for a wrong answer from one of y’all?

On Twitter, I’m a nobody, a nothing, a speck of dust. I heard about this thing called a shadow-ban, where you see your tweetles but no one else can since the PTB have put a block on their distribution, and like a cyber-hypochondriac I thought ooh maybe I haz that! But no. I’m not worthy enough to have any kind of ban obviously. That’s not why no one notices my twips. No one notices them because they aren’t noticeable. It doesn’t matter how witty I think I am, or even when I remember to hashtag a particularly clever thing… nothing. But occasionally a friend likes one, so I know I haven’t been shadow-banned. Then a popular twatter says something and gets 800 hearts in three minutes… the count rolls over into the thousands as I watch. It’s not even that funny, but there it goes. Whatever.

Again, I’m trying to figure out some of these popular tweepers. They seem to be on Twitter all day long. Are they getting paid? They churn out a comment after every blip in the news. Then they immediately have thousands of likes and retweets. What’s their source of income? They can’t all be stay at home moms. Some are men, but the ones I’ve observed are mostly women.

If it’s just an ego thing, pffft. The reason I’m curious is I’d like to know how to get more people to see my tweets as a way of promoting my writing. I observe so many writers there hawking their books… doesn’t seem like a fabulous strategy. If everyone is doing it, is anyone really clicking and buying? I don’t think I got any sales that way, but then again, I’m not a popular tweep to begin with. I can’t believe that if all you do is promo you’ll be more popular. That’s so boring! If you’re popular for being funny and smart, and oh incidentally every once in a while link to a product for sale, then I can see people clicking on it. But why would someone buy something you’re selling if they don’t know who you are in the first place? This is why celebs are desirable salespeeps, isn’t it? If only I could get Meg Ryan to promo my books for free. LOL

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Observe