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Hindsight

A few quick things. Probably no real post today.

I started this blog on Blogger. I can’t even remember what happened that made Blogger impossible, new interface or something? So I switched over here to wordpress in…2006, maybe. Luckily there was a way to import all my archives; but there was no way to import comments–or if there were, I had no idea how to do it. I just wanted to mention this so you all didn’t think I spent 3 years talking to myself, if you happened to be wandering through the archives.

I thought of this because I have been wandering through my archives. And wow, sometimes I wonder who I was then. The selfishness or self-righteousness that poured out onto the page sometimes was astounding. I truly think that my 30s have been when I’ve really done most of my growing up…growing into myself. So again, if you happen upon an older post of mine and you shake your head…please give me the benefit of the six plus years that have gone by since then.

That is all.

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Life and the Internet.

I got my very first email address my freshman year in college. Two, in fact. One was my official college email, the other was a hotmail address which might even still exist. I think now I have, maybe 8 email addresses. Then there was the “Talker” phase. I was a spod, and double points if you know what that means. I’m on Twitter… a lot. I use Facebook. I’m on Tumblr (as a follower, I don’t post anything.) I can’t even tell you how many various things I’ve signed up for and stuck with or abandoned as time went on.

Through all that I’ve made, and stayed in touch with some awesome people. I haven’t had any of the horrible internet experiences they warn about. That’s not to say I haven’t been reckless at times, just that I guess I’ve been lucky.

I have dated people I met online, not on a dating site. One for four years of every 6 month visits. For my 30th birthday, I took a trip to England by myself, but for most of it I was not truly alone because at each stop I got to meet with people I had talked to for years but most of whom I hadn’t met until I stepped off the train. That trip (in my Dec 2006 archives) remains one of the best things I have ever done for myself.

I met one of my best friends currently on an amazing online community because we figured out that we both lived close and liked to knit.

So there are people out there, all over America, and all over the world that I would look straight at you and call my “friends,” and mean it with all my heart.

The part that has been getting me lately, as I get older, is that there is a chance that some of those people, I might never meet. ¬†Or, what is an even worse feeling for me, I may have met them and will never see them again. That, right there, is crazy. I am a small part of their daily lives. I think of them in passing, as they do me. Maybe I haven’t talked to them in years but when they watch a certain movie or hear a quote, they think of me for a second.

I”m not sure what the point of this post is. It’s just something that I bat around in my head sometimes. I want to buy an island and invite all my friends to come and live on it with me. Any takers?

I Don’t Know if it made me proud of myself or just…lonelier.

I was having one of those days today when every answer feels like a rejection. I know exactly why I was feeling like that, but even I draw the line at blogging about certain things…at least for now. I asked about 5 people at work to go to lunch with me, and nobody could go for various reasons. But it pretty much felt like what they were saying was “I don’t want to eat lunch with you, Lori.” You know what I mean?

So I went by myself. And I didn’t get takeaway, oh no. I bought a magazine at CVS, walked into the Sezchuan Rose, and asked for a table for one.

I thought I’d feel proud of myself.

*shrug*

zzzzzz

I’ve dreamed about work every night this week. Every. night.

Why I’m a Bad Citizen

I’m no good at politics. Seriously, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m not bragging about this, I’m being honest about my ignorance. I think I might have Congresenpresimayoralphobia. (I’m sure there is a real name for a phobia of politics, but Google failed me.) And I watch the news, and read newspapers, but something in my head tells me we are never, ever getting the full story–that no one is telling the truth or telling the whole truth, which makes the whole exercise pointless. And I mean the whole thing, even voting. There, now you’ll see I’m not only ignorant, I’m jaded: a lethal combination. Oh, don’t come at me with the whole “if every one in America had that attitude” bit, either.

There’s another facet to my bad citizenship. I was raised with with an inherent respect, fear, and even awe of all authority figures. My heart still pounds each time I walk by a police officer. I’ve never cursed at my mother (I’ve never even said the word “fart” around her.) And deep down, what I really really want is to be able to trust that the people elected to office want to do the right thing, and not only that they want to, but that they are doing it, and will continue to do it. That if they look like they’re doing something bad, it’s only because I don’t fully understand the situation.

So when I’m eating in our little lunch room with the other office monkeys, and Brian starts to hem and haw about the President’s speech, or read an especially scathing newpaper editoral aloud–well that’s when I curl up into a small ball on the cold tile floor and wrap my arms around my head, making sure they cover my ears. It’s not because I think he’s wrong. It’s not because I think he’s pompous. It might be a little bit because he says the same things over and over and over again. But mostly it’s because I feel an overwhelming sense of futility.

Yeah, I like football. Yeah, I know the rules (mostly)

Go Pats! One game away from the big one!

go-pats.jpg

Ah, Simplicity

So, to be honest, there is some stuff about WordPress that either a) I haven’t given enough of a chance yet or b) kinda sucks. Like the rigamarole you have to go through to modify your template. Then again, they do have some good reasoning behind it.

But one thing that I really am liking, that I thought would bother me, is the simplicity of my new template. I was willing to live with it until I figured stuff out, but now I don’t really miss all the extra stuff I had gracing my sidebars. I don’t really need a flicker badge, or all those buttons to prove myself a blogger. They’re kind of cute and fun, but maybe this will be a good step towards getting me back into focus on my actual posts again.


Lori

A blog about my life and other stuff.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Romania.

Dorothy Parker, Not So Deep as a Well (1937)