Lately I've been hearing a lot about how "free" I am with personal information on the internet.
Most painfully, I got in trouble with my mom - there I go, sounding and feeling 15 again - for some rants I posted on facebook about a family matter I'm going through with my step-children. The way she initially put it, she wanted me to remove the posts because she didn't want what I said getting back to that side of the family. Then, I need to be careful because there are people on my FB who don't need to be all up in family business.
The thing those kids did to me was so hurtful that I sat at work for most of the day trying not to cry. Can't talk about it with co-workers, can't be on the phone about it all day while I'm at work... As soon as I got home, I did what I do best. I wrote it out. I wrote out my anger, I made some jokes about it so I could stop being angry and hurt, and I was in the process of dealing with and getting over it.
One of the rants I wrote really WAS too much information and I deleted it, and I told the person I was replying to that I deleted it. Do I really care if my friend Joe Schmoe disapproves of my FB rant? I think Joe Schmoe 'oughta damn know me pretty well by now to realize that I get over it faster once I can laugh about it.
I rarely curse in front of my mother, but at that point I came dangerously close to saying, "I don't give a flying f*ck if it gets back to them. I HOPE it gets back to them because they need to SEE in print how d*mn stupid they are." But, I didn't say that, I just thought it.
I was so upset that I removed all the posts. Then I got pissed off about allowing myself to get pissed off enough to remove the posts. I can't even remember the last time I deleted something I wrote because somebody else didn't like it. Tell you what, it won't happen again. Like my friend put ever so nicely the other day, you can't tell someone who expresses themselves through writing NOT to write. You just can't. For my mom to tell me that is akin to me telling her to go to church and ignore the Holy Ghost. She would look at me like I was crazy, right? Right.
And believe it or not, I don't tell everything. Everyone doesn't know EVERYthing about me. The ones who think they do just because of what they read most often end up with their feelings hurt and looking stupid. My journals have my deepest, darkest secrets and thoughts. Trust me, the good stuff is NOT on FB.
After pondering all of that, I became even more angry. When someone hurts me like they did (and it's the last in a long list of hurts), I guess I'm supposed to internalize that, because you do? I guess I'm supposed to sulk and be mad and take it out on everybody else, because that's what you do? I guess I'm supposed to just retreat into myself and feel bad, because you do? Stress out about it and grow more gray hair because that's what you do? Should I call a minister, because you do? Should I write it down on a piece of paper and then burn it because that's what you do? Maybe I should just journal it and stick it in the section titled "For MY eyes only", because that's what you do? Maybe all that works for you.
But I'm not you.
I feel good? I write, and I just may post it on the internetz.
I feel bad? I write, and I just may post it on the internetz.
I feel funny? I write, and I just may post it on the internetz.
I question? I write, and I just may post it on the internetz.
I answer? I write, and I just may post it on the internetz.
I'm in love? I write, and I just may post it on the internetz.. No, that's inaccurate - I HAVE learned to keep that juicy to myself.
I have an upset stomach? I write. I just may post on the internetz: "PSA: You probably don't want to go in the bathroom for 35-45 minutes."
So? So? So? And, SO WHAT?
Everybody doesn't always have a feel-good, inspirational message for you. Everybody doesn't always greet you in the morning with a 'Good Day!' and a smile. Everybody doesn't have a book of favorite quotes to pick a post from, and dangonit, everybody isn't always in a good mood. I, am not even willing to fake one just for the sake of not hearing someone else say, "Dang, she's got drama!" Yes, I do, and I embrace it. It isn't going to make me, I'll be damned if I let it break me.
If you don't have any drama, or nothing bad, icky or uncomfortable EVER happens to you, I feel pretty comfortable calling you a liar. Quit pretending like your shit smells like roses on a regular and you wake up on the right side of the bed every morning. LIAR. There, I said it.
You may choose not to share your drama, bad times, ick or ill-feeling with the world (FB or otherwise) and that's your prerogative. Don't beat me up for sharing mine. I do try to share good news, funny news too. Don't beat me up for being human.
Don't tell me what to post on my FB page or my blogs and I won't tell you what to post on yours. Better yet, just delete me so that the news of my migraine, the fact that I stubbed my toe or wanted to choke the rent lady, or the fact that my son peed on the bathroom wall once at summercamp, or that he ordered porn on Directv, or the fact that I laughed heartily at the motorist who cut me off in the parking lot and ended up sideswiping someone else 5 minutes later, or that I was traumatized at discovering that my daughters are already developing pubic hair, or that the results of my overindulgence in cheese the night before resulted in a hemorrhoid doesn't impede upon your happy-happy-joy-joy.
I would never, ever want to affect your day with my TMI posts. But admit it, don't you get tired of seeing the inane?"
I'm going to work. ~ I'm getting off work. ~ I just bought garbage bags. ~ I just ate a hot dog. ~ I'm on I-77. ~ It's hot outside. ~ It's cold outside. ~ It's hot outside and cold inside.
You know you do. You know you'd much rather read, "My bra is too tight and my nipples are sweating", so you can either empathize, sympathize or imagine.
Anyway, I'm getting back to center. I'm going to be me however I feel like being me. If you don't like it, hey, that's YOU not liking it. Not my problem.
Love you mom, but that goes for you too.
~N
**Oh, and because some people are DUMB, when I say "you" and "your" without having addressed anyone specifically, I'm speaking to the collective, not any one person. Please don't e-mail me and ask me if I'm talking about you. I will hurt your feelings.
