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Posts Tagged ‘Facebook’

First World Problems

My children know what this means. It’s a good way to put a stop to whining and complaining. I mean this for myself, not as a means of controlling the entitled little folks (okay, not so little) with whom I live. Believe me, I’m plenty entitled.

I know that even in the US, many are living in very poor circumstances and conditions. Especially now with income disparity and the corporatocracy being what it is.

I want to show you something about me. This is the tube from which I squeezed (or, as we like to say around here: squoazed) my toothpaste the other morning after waking:

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I have a compulsion to squeeze the toothpaste tube until I think it can yield nothing more; Lo and Behold though, every morning there is more. I am sure this toothpaste tube has thought of committing itself to the garbage can for weeks, but I won’t let it go. It’s like a toothpaste fairy keeps refilling a quarter-teaspoon of paste back into the tube every night.

I am sometimes overwhelmed by the crap that comes to me by way of Facebook. The pro-gun camp and the anti-gun camp. Never the twain shall meet and this makes me first angry and then exceedingly sad.

From now on, I will attempt to refer to what is known as a “gun control” issue as an “anti gun-violence” issue, both to flip the rhetoric on its head and present a more accurate phrase.

I enjoy many aspects of Facebook. I love it even with its flaws and deceptions at my [willful] expense. I have thought of un-friending certain people, but have decided simply to hide their posts.

I save plastic bread bags for reuse, as my mother did (and still does) before me and I rewash plastic bags, especially the sturdy ones with zip-tops that are filled with carrots or (DELICIOUS) greens that I purchase at the farmer’s market.

I like immaculately clean dishes. I am quite wasteful when it comes to how much dish soap I dispense from the bottle.

I don’t grow any vegetables or raise any animals. I do buy eggs from my neighbor.

Sometimes, when it comes to the aftermath of emotional interactions I’ve had with people I love, sorry is the best I have.

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Oh, Emily. She was so [what we would call today] positive. Maybe she was even cheerful. I am happy to guess and suppose and surmise and read nothing at all about it but her own words.

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(On Facebook)

YOU GUESSED IT:

SCRABBLE

These people are brutal, brutal I tell you!

I KNEW a particular random player was out for blood. Do you know how long she waited? She waited and waited and waited and she plotted and plotted. She held out for the triple word at the lower left of the board. She waited until she could take the spot for 81 points. 81 POINTS! That’s 9 squared, people (even I know that).

But guess what? She plotted and planned for so dang long that by that time, I’d beat her. I was so many points ahead that even her 81-point turn couldn’t get her ahead of me. Yeah. So let that be a lesson. I may not be the best. I may not even be a great player. But I don’t sit on my esses or my ass.

Ever since they cancelled my addiction-central game, SCRAMBLE (it was a Boggle-style word game that you could play on Facebook), I’ve been quite lost, you know. Until now.

I’m back in the addict’s corner. Bleary-eyed at midnight. My head swimming with letters. Filled with uncontrollable, sleep-depriving excitement and joy because I beat the pants of an unnamed repeat-opponent (you know who you are!) once again!

Okay, so this is not what I look like exactly. I don’t have a red shirt like this and I gave up smoking a long time ago. But if I keep up the Scrabble habit at this fever-pitch, I might have to switch to something healthier, LIKE SMOKING!

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