Moons-Over-Social-Media

 My various freelance jobs don't allow me to take technological hiatuses very often, but what happens when the information floating around the Internet that is constantly in your face, starts to become more than you can handle?

Most people can agree that not everything they read on Facebook or Twitter is exactly "uplifting."  Frankly, those status updates that many people covet, have a tendency to make other people feel bad about themselves.  What seems like an endless string of news reports have popped up recently advocating for stricter guidelines for social media content.  They identify an increase in low self-esteem among users and incidents of physical violence as the results of this new generation of social media addicts. 

It is no secret that the events on social media sites have contributed to suicide. Most of us can still remember the highly publicized Myspace case in 2008.  Thirteen year-old, Megan Meier, committed suicide after being harassed by a neighbor who signed up for the site posing as a teenage boy. Events as severe as this might be few and far between, but local news crews are constantly covering "breaking stories" that deal with the misuse of sites like these - no different than the effect that chat rooms had during the 1990s when headlines screamed "middle age man lured teenage girl into compromising position." 

Is the Internet becoming an unhealthy use of time in more ways than the physical sense?  I would argue yes.  Social media is addictive, and with easy access almost everywhere you look -smart phones, laptops, iPods, iPads, Internet stations - it's a hard addiction to break. 

Sitting at home on a Friday night may be the responsible choice if you have work to finish, but seeing what seems like everyone else on your friend list updating the Twitterverse on their club-o-choice for the evening doesn't help your reserve.  When you're feeling a little oompa-loompa like, checking out your friends photo albums and glaring at their sex-on-a-stick looks, isn't going to help your cause.  And, when you're dealing with a love-sick-puppy situation, seeing the hearts and love notes all over his wall, isn't going to do anything but bring the water works.

I am a huge advocate of the use of social media for marketing and getting information out there in the most convenient and easy to navigate way, and there are definite perks to be said for the social aspect. But as a user and abuser, I myself have had to establish limits.  Facebook stalking, bad idea.  Constant Twitter updates, get a life.  Mobile uploads that chronicle your day one picture at a time, no thanks!

Stand up, take a breath, stretch, and walk away.  Come again another day!

"Strumming My Pain With His Fingers - Two Times"

When you're going through a rough time, people come up with all sorts of advice to get you through it.  Unfortunately, most of that advice either doesn't apply or is cookie cutter generic - but you overlook that because these are usually people that love and support you, unless you decided to blab your problems to the whole world, and in that case I recommend you invest in therapy.  I strongly believe in honesty and sharing is caring and so forth, but its never healthy to put your pain on public display (haven't we learned anything from reality TV?).  Sometimes pretending is the only thing you have left, it's like therapy for the broke and restless. 

The best piece of advice I've gotten is the following, it's simple but direct, and implies everything without needing extra explanation, it was the end of the discussion:

Lindsay, you are not the type of girl that guys get over, you're the type of girl guys try to get past. 

*sometimes guys give the best advice.

The Misunderstanding of Fireworks

I must admit that I've never understood the appeal of fireworks.  I can see why they were conflated with the idea of freedom historically, but they have since become controlled expressions of this once unpremeditated show of organized chaos.  They are no longer confined to simply the 4th of July, America's Independence Day, but instead keep me up on most warm nights as the neighborhood kids feel the need to show off their personal independence on a daily basis (I also blame Indiana's "loose" laws on the sale of fireworks to minors for the disruption in my beauty rest).

Seriously, bright light, lots of noise..if I wanted to incorporate those things into my everyday routine I would have chosen a more urban environment to call home [no offense city dwellers, that was once me].  

On the plus side, it did  provide PETA with the opportunity to send me a text letting me know that fireworks, although fun, often frighten animals - in case the sight of Fat Kitty hiding behind the bathroom door didn't alert me to that fact already.

**Check Out Doobious.Org for an otherwise lovely photograph capturing fireworks that at least look pretty.

Scornfully Yours, Portland

What do I want from life?

Well, right now, I'd like some guy who has scorned me to show up at my door, with orchids and my favorite perfume, bare his soul, willfully admit he's a jerk, and mean it.

But those things don't happen in real life, they only happen in the movies. Right?

And furthermore, it's flippin' annoying when characters in movies have lines like that, when they are actually in a movie and five minutes ahead in the plot whatever they complained about not happening in "real life" happens.  Whoever approves scripts with lines like that should really consider his work more carefully in the future.  Thanks.

Day 103: Light at the End of the Tunnel

If you've been following my journey of non-shopping, then you may be aware that my personal shopping hiatus ends in just two weeks.  103 days strong and still going.  I can't say that this experience was exactly what I imagined going into it.  I pictured shopping cravings to hit like food cravings, and desperate pleas in the form of text messages and e-mailed wish lists to go out starting from Day 8.  For the most part, it has been pretty smooth sailing.

Although, there were definitely moments that I felt an urge to throw on some shoes, grab my purse and plunge into the depths of shopping, I've maintained a pretty consistent low key lifestyle over the last few months.  Right now, the effort to stay clam during the sea of final papers that are swirling around my desk is definitely helping the cause.  I have no more time to contemplate the latest styles than I do to have an all-weekend movie marathon.  With crunch time upon me, it's eases the focus on other superficial areas of my life.

I had planned to lift my ban on May 4th, however, finals in mind - May 10 after finals are over seem more appropriate (and even, since I began on January 10th).

Too bad I never found a generous sponsor..

When Life Happens, and You Don't..

It's inevitable that there will be moments in life when comparatively you will be in a proverbial holding pattern.  Everyone around you will appear to be moving on, and you - you are stuck.  This happens a lot when people decide to go to back to school instead of focusing on their career or romantic life.  It is possible for you to do all three at once, but more than likely not.

Why is that? 

Well, most people tend to suffer from tunnel-vision, and although as Americans are trained to multi-task (I'm sure there are other countries with similar tendencies, but I can't speak for them) we don't tend to do it proficiently on a larger scale.

The problem with being in a holding pattern is you start to think that the successes of others indicate a failure on your own part.  No, you didn't get that exciting new job.  No, you didn't get engaged.  No, you didn't buy a new house/car.

You have effectively put these things on hold so that you can accomplish the "grunt work."  This endeavor however prominent it may be, presents emotional hurtles.  The idea of being stuck does not exactly scream positive connotation.  You work and work and work, and as soon as you finish -  a new semester starts, and everything goes back to square one.  It often feels like you're moving ahead at a snail's pace.   

Perhaps the most difficult part is the feeling in your stomach when you know you should be overwhelmed for the joys of others, but feel like when you say it out loud, it seems like you're just pretending - like you're just following the script of social pleasantries.

Stay Strong.  Life will move on..eventually.

Day 85 - Barely Holding On

It's April and I'm in the home stretch of my 5 month shopping ban.  Only one more month to go, and I've only used one freebie (out of 3).  I must admit I hit a wall the other day and virtually almost went off the deep end.  I was once again forced into the shopping sphere to purchase a stunning gift for a good friend, when I was bombarded with such a selection that I literally had to leave the store. 

The change in season has really got me on the shopping urge thinking about all the lovely new Spring trends available.  Now I know, you may be thinking, seriously chica wtf?  It's only clothes.  But in case you are unaware, for many women (and some men) shopping is a hobby, a zen-like experience, and without such my life has been slightly unbalanced.  In an effort to counter-balance and retain some sense of equilibrium, I have been entering a vast number of contests/giveaways - because let's face it, a package in the mail is a package in the mail.

Although, I can admit that shopping is not the end-all, be-all of living, doing things that one finds enjoyable is a crucial part of life.  Everyone has responsibilities, things we do because we have to or out of necessity (like work and grad school for me), but it's the other facets of life that make it worth it.

Keep on truckin', folks!    

Day 77 and Honey, This is Not Heaven

I was forced to enter a store yesterday to shop for someone else.

I'm pretty sure the largest part of my success in this shopping ban is due to my avoidance of situations that may cause me the urge of opening up my wallet.  I've never been a window shopper and this is not the time to start.  Before I made it to the baby section (shopping for a baby shower gift), I passed by the dress section.  I tried to peruse, but it all became too much and I was taken by the immense selection of lovely colors and fabrics.  Fortunately, I willed myself away just in time before I loaded myself on dresses for every occasion.

Oh, how I miss the high that shopping gives me..fa la la.  How do people find zen outside of the retail experience??

Still no word on a willing participant in the quest for a sponsor.

Singing "I'm half way there, I'm half way there!" [Lifehouse]

Time Out, Brooklyn

I've always liked the idea of a relaxing vacation, but in reality I am a restless soul.  I get bored easily.  By Day 1 1/2, I am ready to rejoin the real world..or at least do something productive.  I know that getting a tan may seem like a productive use of time, however, I've never been one to just want to lay on beach for endless days doing diddly squat.  There was a summer in college where I spent at least an hour at the pool almost every day soaking up those harmful UV rays, and being that tan made me enormously happy.  But the reality is that most of those days I had to force myself not to get up and go as I mentally ran through my list of "Things To Do.." that was sitting on the kitchen counter.

On the other hand, I fully support the concept of procrastination.  I strongly believe that a healthy amount of procrastinating in one's life is perfectly acceptable.  It is those moments of relaxation that I get the most out of.  It is also in that time that I google search for more contests to enter, which #winning makes me sublimely happy [winning like in actual winning, not in Charlie Sheen's sense of the word, which equates to losing].

56 Mix

Day 56..

Borders bookstore is going out of business and I desperately want to shop for some half off retail price books.  Although, books might not seem to fit in with the whole essence of a shopping hiatus - there is a plentiful amount of the sitting unread on the bookshelf.  Many of which are ARC's and therefore cost me nothing.  If you are unaware of what an ARC is, they are Advanced Reader Copies, and I manage to be on the right internet sites at the right time and have had the pleasure of being rewarded with several.  I love to read, but until I finish the ones sitting in wait I have to argue that it goes against the intent of my giving up shopping.  I am not going to learn the value of the dollar (and more selfishly save up for a brand new car!) if I give myself loopholes.

Day 5-0

I've made it 50 days without purchasing anything apparel or beauty related (with the exception of my first month's freebie).

How does it feel?

Well, right now after spending the last month or so seeing the flutter of award show images of girls in pretty dresses take over the internet (and my Twitter-feed)..It feels pretty shitty.

I've never considered myself a slave to fashion, but shopping is so much more than that for me.  It's the most convenient way to relieve stress and put a smile of my face.  I used to reward myself for going to class by picking up a lovely gift on the way to the last class of the week.  This got me through the first semester of grad school (and is something I credit for my perfect attendance in this round of schooling).  Ironic since if I had attended the majority of my undergrad classes, I might not have needed to go back and further my education - but hindsight is 20/20. 

The idea of finding a "sponsor" for this non-shopping endeavor seems to be taking up constant attention in my frontal lobe (or maybe whatever lobe is responsible for such thoughts).  I wonder if a magazine editor would take pity on my quest and trade clothes for reviews?  The more I contemplate the idea, the more I think it's a perfectly reasonable request. 

It looks like this hiatus may be extended, my car is making a squeak and I'm foreseeing a new car in the nearer future..Oh lovely pieces o' clothes and fashionable footwear - you may have to wait a bit longer to find your way home to my closet ::tears::

Call Me, Bob

The prevailing theme that I ascribe to as of late is the idea that "even Mother Theresa had haters;" a quote I discovered in an unlikely location - the pages of Women's Health.

The exact quote [in case you didn't click on the link] goes like this:

Being Disliked

"Instead of worrying about whether so-and-so likes you, ask yourself whether you like so-and-so. Hey, even Mother Teresa had haters."

I look to WH for many things, but life philosophy isn't generally one of them.  So imagine my pleasant surprise one evening flipping through the October (?) issue and coming across this gem of advice.  In fact, this might be one of the most intuitive thoughts-to-print I've even come across.  It seems like this is one of those common sensical positions that is put into words in such an ironic way that you can't help but read it twice - which I did, and then I read it an extra time for good measure [and tweeted it, plus made it my facebook status].  Overkill perhaps, but sharing is caring.

I'm sure you've already realized that people spend a more than necessary amount of time obsessing over social relations, or their lack thereof.  Even if you are someone who is generally liked, it is still plausible for there to be people who don't choose to jump on the bandwagon; and you just have to deal with it.  You, however, do not have to talk, text, tweet, blog about it.  People either will or won't like you either way.

Now some people may have an urge to argue with this logic - but it's really sound intelligence.  Clearly, in some cases you may influence the regards that people have toward you; but on most occasions, personal feelings aside, there is inexplicably and absolutely nothing in your arsenal of control to remedy ill will faced in your directions.

Remember, "Even Mother Teresa had haters!" and she is possibly a saint..and be comforted by that notion.

Interpersonal Communication

Just in case anyone is unaware, we are currently in a recession.  Yes, I know - startling information.  

What does this mean?

Well, in my cognitive opinion, it means that customer service providers need to step up there game.  As an avid and over productive shopper, I am appalled at the lack of courteous employees at stores these days.  With companies calling it quits right and left, it would seem only appropriate that staff members with any regard for their current status of "employed," would try to, I don't know, be nice to customers.  In my recent escapade of continuous shopping adventures, aimed at tiding my over for the next 5 months [see Mission: Sacrifice], I have come across more than several for lack of a nicer word, RUDE, sales persons. 

Just a suggestion, with the purse strings of America [the United States of] being tightened -- a decrease in alienating the consumer may be in order.  

Thank You,

Unsatisfied Shopper 

 

Men are from Venus..and Me? I'm from Detroit.

Men.  You can't live with them.  Well I think that is pretty much the platform for my campaign, but I guess it's always a subject that is open to interpretation.  Who would I be if not a willing participant in the world of trivial debates?  I believe that would make me an isolationist of sorts, and I much prefer existing in the universe as a social butterfly flitting between conversations.  Ready, able, and all for exerting my opinion when the situation deems it appropriate [and let's face it, quite often without an invitation].   

Now women.  We are no easy piece of dessert ourselves.  Subconsciously exerting an undeniable, and sometimes less than subtle, control over our environment.  A statement perhaps as confusing as "we are women, hear us roar" - an independent notion trapped in the throws of an animalistic nature that seems to transgress the bound of feminism. 

At least men are moreso blantant in their intentions. 

Some food for thought.  Brain food if you will.

Most Influential

2 hours and 54 minutes into my 3 hour long online exam I came to the realization that: a) I was never going to finish the 75 short essays, but at least my 50 multiple choice answers were probably right, and b)holy crap the internet connection is lost.  I'm not sure which on of these epiphanies was most horrifying - but I chose right then and there to ignore both.  Although when I tried to submit my exam at 3 hours and 19 seconds, despite the obvious, it did not go through ::shock and surprise::  At this point, more importantly, I figured out that I couldn't e-mail my professor for the 2nd time today to share the berevity of my internet catastraphe's with him.  When I finally regained the internet, I desperately e-mailed him my excuse (which was not so much an excuse, but a desperate plea for yet a 3rd chance) - I received a pleasently fast and vague response which I took to mean that I can retry the exam tomorrow. 

I think the important point of this little tale is, that now I will have wasted 6 plus hours on one exam.  "The joys of being a grad student"

p.s. In the midst of this crisis - the air conditioner has went on strike...

TV & The Beast

I suffer from a very dramatic and debilitating fear of being along after dark.  A fear which I am convinced has been cast upon me by socially constructed misconceptions.  In fact, I believe it is one of the few things that both the news and Hollywood conflate on a regular basis.  It is almost certain that a women home alone at night will either be raped and/or murdered; or is certainly single which ultimately means depressed and pining away for Mr. Right - which is portrayed in an equally horrific light.  Instead of fulfilling the purpose of warning women with the dangers of solo activity and arming them with the knowledge of how to maintain a secure environment, media is actually inflicting an irrational fear of the dark onto them, myself included.  Although, obviously some locations present an added threat, statistically speaking living in a constant pattern of fear is unnecessary.     

I wonder if the propensity of these story lines are sponsored by alarm companies..

Kindness is Someone Else's Responsibility

Today, for the first time this eternity, I feel truely blessed to be single.  Being in a committed relationship seems particularly confining when I watch my friends experience it while I live vicariously through them - but it is not until recently, that it has begun to resemble willful torture.

Watching my guy friends do it is even more painful, as they clearly are in no real control of the situation and become virtuoso brainless droids strung out by Freud's principals of pleasure vs. pain in a dose much larger than any doctor would recommend; completely unresponsive to actual human emotions outside their love-dome.  It's like watching someone fall into the mythical rabbit hole - a world beyond discernable reason.  It's a horrid thing to view from an outside perspective.

::cheers::       

Living in The Shadow of Love..and Not Loving It!

As I am prepared to spend the rest of eternity single, the idea of being acutally alone never really popped up in my survey of the fine print- I always pictured a few people along for the ride.  So what happens when one of those chosen few finds a love interest and changes the status quo?

Currently, my on-again, off-again emotional crutch turned quite necessary and accomodating amigo has decided to take the road less traveled (ok so untraveled for me)and date in a non-casual, completely commital type of way.
It's not that I begrudge his choice to expand his happiness options (which I have felt the dramatic need to ensure him), or that i'm pining away for him (I think we've beaten that horse dead) - but, HELLO!  misery does love company, and by that it should be clearly understood that there is silent "single" in front of the word company.  Obviously, there's the completely rational fear of him abandoning me to keeping in mind..
On a more personal note - if he decides that this girl is the cliched "one," let's be honest, i'm no match for love.  Translation: i'm going to be minus one pretty crucial person in my life. 

I had a friend who once told me that you know you're ready to be in a serious relationship when you're willing to let go of your opposite sex friends - I think that's bullshit.  Although, at this moment I am obviously lacking optimism (thus my choice to indugle in Cold Stone this evening) and i'm not so confident on this being a winning battle.  Unfortunately, with finals right around the corner and the delicate line between being a 4.0 grad student and not-so-much teetering ever so slightly in my unfavor - I am unable to exert myself in such capacity involving saving my friendship until at least May. 10th.  Hmmm...maybe it's a sign.  Well as I tell him; que sera, sera.

Stay tuned! ::dramatic cliffhanger music::

Remember Me

How do you tell someone you miss them?

Can I say I miss your laugh? Or is it I miss how you make me laugh?  Should I tell you why I miss you? Or what I remember about you that makes me miss you?  Is it more important to tell you how it makes me feel to remember? Or why it makes me cry when I forget?

I read an article in Women's Health that says heartbreak literally makes you ill, that love turned around can manifest as a sort of flu.  I wonder what loneliness can do.. 

Why the average purse snatcher doesn't stand a chance against moi!

Recently Northwest Indiana, specifically the Merrillville area, fell victim to two attempted robberies both involving women, both during daylight hours.  The first in the parking lot of Meijers, resulted in a woman being shot in the back after resisting (currently in critical condition); and the second only hours later, outside of a nearby Menards (perp was easily spooked and fled the scene).  These incidents rattled locals and sparked the ongoing female debate:  do you fight back or just let them have it??

Taking into consideration that most men that try to steal women's purses tend to be inexperienced, desperate, and unarmed (and let's face it, we can probably most likely add pussy to their list of qualifications) - If I was in this situation, and my attacker fell into the aforementioned category, HELL-TO-THE-MOTHER-FUCKING-YES I would fight back! 

The way I see it, I worked incredibly hard for the items in my purse and i'm not giving my money (plastic) away without a fight.  I figure that i'm in pretty good shape from working out so much and have a nasty right hook, I could probably take an average man; with the added advantage that people always underestimate me purely based on my small size and stature (clearly, a mistake on their part) - he wouldn't even see it coming.  Plus, my Detroit upbringing makes me paranoidly aware of my surrounding.  Also, never forget the popular kick-him-in-the-balls option.  

And that is why the average purse snatcher doesn't stand a chance against moi!