Sunday Stars!

No, really!  STARS!  Legends in our own mind.  :)

Today I starred all the guys in my blues band.  We've been playing together in some configuration or another for about a year, and are on the cusp of starting to gig. 

So now we've got a SECOND social media page for the band and, uh.... I'm never going to break free from this am I?!?!?

One-sider

Not sure how we ended up connected, but noted that only one of us has ever initiated conversation.  Not surprised.

We've known each other since grade school, but were only "friends" for part of sophomore year in high school when I experimented with sitting at the Mean Girls table.  You know, the pretty, rich, and popular girls who treat everyone like shit.

What an awful dynamic.  Having infiltrated the group with an eye for studying group dynamics, I noted that the Mean Girls always keep a few "lowlies" around to use as scapegoats and target their aggression toward.  (I was not the lowliest, but probably third or fourth from lowly.)  The lowlies were hand-picked and groomed by the mid-level girls to boost their status, and to keep them relatively safe from the scorn of the queens.  

I don't like cliques.  At all.  And I couldn't tolerate watching how the lowliest was treated on a day-to-day basis.  So I went rogue, and became the loner-butterfly that I still am today.

Interesting to see that you're "friends" with that girl you tormented so many years ago. 

Anyhow, it's been something to have a peek into how your life is going, and to see that you married and had kids (twins+1!) with a guy from high school.  Hope that hometown hierarchy you set up so many years ago worked out for you... and glad I got the eff out.  Ta ta.

Friends in Limboland

Sigh.  They just keep coming.  The friend-requests, that is.  I've got about six now, hovering in the space between request and confirmation.  I can't bring myself to delete them, but... none of the people are really my friends.  Although one is someone I see regularly, so I feel obligated to add him.  But don't want to, as it will only lead to the necessity (and potential butt-hurt) of deleting him again later.  It's defeating the purpose of this blog to add more extraneous people. 

Speaking of limbo, how's this?  Today's deletion is the husband of a childhood friend, who herself doesn't have an account.  That's fine, and even enviable, but I've met this guy once.  She never guest-posts.  He doesn't have any pictures of her on his page (what, are you in a witness protection program or something?).  And... he constantly posts about sports, and what kind of alcohol he plans to drink next.  Yawn.

Dear friend: You have my email address.  Hit me up if you ever want to catch up.  Hasta la vista, hubby.

Starting to Falter

It is taking longer and longer to decide who goes.  And I'm only down to 228.  Still would like to eliminate 70 or so, but we'll see how that goes.  It's getting difficult, because I'm loathe to delete any of my many-many-many family members, or my closest friends, or, well, anyone who will create drama.

So today, it's the younger sister of a friend that I never stayed in touch with.  The friend himself has been too "busy" to communicate, and lives very much in the moment.  He is friends with the people he sees every day, even if those friendships are limited by the amount of time he stays in a particular location.  Out of sight, out of mind.  (I guess I'm revealing that he'll probably go too, but nostalgia stays my hand.)  And today's deletion is one more step removed, and has a huge friend list, and is one of the "nevers."  Our history reveals that I've sent her a birthday message once upon a time -- but that's it.  See?  I'm feeling better about choosing her already.

That was easy! (Does this even count?)

You were earmarked to be the next to go, and simultaneously deleted your entire account.  Whew!  *brushes hands on pants*

Your last post was something to the effect of taking a hiatus for a couple of months while you did your student teaching.  I figured that when you returned you'd never notice I was missing.  And then you saved me the trouble of pushing the button!

We've never actually met in person -- you were a co-worker of an acquaintance, who'd shaved your head for cancer research just a couple of months after I did.  We became "friends" so that I could give you support and a hearty "congratulations!"  And you looked gorgeous without hair.  An amazing experience for us both.

But also the extent of our relationship.  And from 1600 miles away.

Hope the teaching gig goes well, and that the universe is excellent to you.

A Quick Combo

...because it is late, late, late.  And I'm tired, tired, tired.

First a deletion -- an old co-worker.  Sweet on the surface, but always with an undercurrent of derision and mistrust.  So strange.  Always cautious and close, but trying to put out an image of a smiling hippiechick with a heart of gold.  I never got it.  We never clicked.  Now we're in vastly different places, physically, mentally, and socially.  I have a feeling I'll see you again, but don't think I'll be missed in the interim.

And my Sunday Star is related  in time and space.  A good friend, in my wedding, but still a gap between us created by differences in our experiences, though many of them were similar.  (Does that even make sense?) 

There was a time when I very much looked up to you as a leader. and you were pleased to let me.  But now that you've come around to where I've been, I feel like maybe you're understanding me better.  And that we'll be closer, and that the "respect" part of the friendship will be bolstered... just as soon as you catch your breath and realize where you are!   In the meantime, I'll be watching closely.

Green-eyed Monster.

Nope, not you.  Me. 

Maybe she's born with it.  (Maybe it's Maybelline.)

Nah, in this case, you were born with it.  The unfortunate circumstance of having been born, and subsequently having to tolerate our small hometown aside, you were brought into the world on the top.  Wealthy, ravishingly beautiful, intelligent... there's not a single thing I could say against you.  Except that I don't know if your lack of communication is a smug superiority or shyness. 

You've segued your success in simply being into a lucrative career of stacking the six books your clients own into a display based on their size and color -- and adding a bud vase on an adjacent shelf.  Once every few weeks, you'll post pictures on a blog showing how one could possibly function while fitting a mail-organizing desk in a 2000-square-foot Manhattan apartment.  Not that I lack appreciation for aesthetics, or understanding that some people have a need for everything in the world to be just so.  But it appears that you are living a VERY posh life in NYC, dedicated to a career based on (others') superficiality and outward appearances.  Every molecule of my being cries out "No fair!"

Yes.  I am jealous.  I've had so many challenges and crises to work through in my life, and luckily have met no great harm doing so, but haven't been rewarded with a life straight from the pages of well, every magazine depicting the ideal life experience.  I can't help looking at your life (and what do you do, have a professional photographer tag along every time you leave the house?) and wondering how some people literally dig ditches for sixteen hours a day, before returning home to cabbage soup and a dirty mattress on the floor.

Jealousy aside, I can't continue our "friendship" because I lose all perspective of my own successes and faith in the order of the universe.  I'm sure you wouldn't want me to bear the weight of all that, would you?

Babies.

We had our babies (our firsts) at the same time (five days apart) and met in our birthing class.  Beyond that, well, we had very little in common.  We tried getting together a few times.   We never really hit it off.  Then you moved three states away.

I feel like we gave it the good old college try.  I'm okay with moving on.  Maybe I'll bump into you at random on a mountaintop someday.  If you take an interest in hiking (which you don't care for, but I love) with your four dogs (that I don't care for, but you love).

Who are you, again?

Ohhhh... it's getting close to Super Bowl time again.  So on game days, I get to see play-by-play updates come in from all the football fans.  Which is how I even noticed we are still friends.  Who are you, again?

I mean, I know your name, obviously.  I know what you look like, too, and I absolutely recognize you from high school.  I'd probably recognize you at the bar, provided it was in my hometown and context didn't come into play.  But for the life of me I can't remember how you and I are connected.  No long-term school relationship, no homeroom, not tracked in the same sets of classes, no extracurriculars.  Nothing.  We have 24 mutual friends, and really no clues there.

And no interaction online either.

So I really, really need to maintain my sanity on all of these game days -- I'm sure you understand.  And won't notice.  Or care.  Play ball!  Or, whatever.

Another "Never"

We met at my college bar-gig.  You were on your way out, I was on my way in.  I think you trained me for a day. 

And then you moved, and we became nevers.  Except for the occasional visit, where we sat at the same table with the same bunch of (co-worker) friends.  And then, nine years later, we bumped into each other at a wedding, and spent part of the night hanging out.

After which, we became online "friends" ...and immediately, "nevers" again.

Glad you're well, kid is cute, etcetera.  And... delete.  

Today's Special Is:

Shameless self-promotion.  This has become a personal theme for the week!

People -- especially online -- learn how to straddle the line between self-promotion, and being irritating.

I've often heard an old saying:  "It ain't braggin' if it's true."  Well, first of all, your grammar is atrocious.  But also, yes, yes it is, IF YOU SPEAK OF NOTHING ELSE.  So those folks (who are oblivious to who they are) are on my short-list.

Today's deletion isn't a braggart, but she sure is a marketer!  Used to be a co-worker, and a familiar face... even had her 15 minutes as a brief political celebrity back in 2004.  Super cool chick, funny, bold, empowered, yadda yadda.  I connected with her again a little over a year ago, which was unexpected.  We became social-media acquaintances.

And then she opened a restaurant (congrats! yay!) and is one of my few friends who posts every day.  It's Burger Night!  It's Chili Day!  Kids Eat Free! 

I'll need to make a reservation, because it would be a damn shame to drive 1600 miles and have to wait for a table.

Please, please, please... start a business page, and give me the choice to opt in to hear about all the "great specials."  You are not your job.

And... you've been 86'd.

Sunday Stars Time Warp!

Yeah, last time I posted was a Sunday Star -- and here I am doing it again.  Where'd the week go???

Today's star doesn't post very often.  She's a busy mama, like myself.  Hopefully she'll let us all know how her business is going -- and share some info, event dates, and do a little self-promotion.  Not to the extent of some people we know, but enough to let the world know we exist.  After five-plus years of being quietly behind-the-scenes.  Oh, how much live has changed since we became each others' first friends in a new city! Wow. 

Still wondering if we'll somehow end up collaborating on some sort of million-dollar project.  It feels like it's bubbling there under the surface somewhere, and we just need to stay open to it, and ready to leap on an opportunity.

We could make a deal about self-promotion.  If you do it, I will too.

But until then, I'll star ya, so I don't miss a thing.  :)

Sunday Softies will now be called...

Sunday Stars.  You see, because now you can "star" people who you'd like to subscribe to.  Now that my numbers are dwindling -- although I have many, many more to go -- I'll start starring my keepers.  First star?  Simple.  My husband.

Happy Sunday!

Family, Once Removed

You're a never.  Never written on my wall, or commented on my stuff.  Ditto me for you.

We're not related, really.  You are my husband's mother's cousin's son's wife.  We met twice, you as a guest at our wedding, and once at Christmas, where I bequeathed our little person's Santa suit to your little person.  Beyond that, we barely spoke.  And I haven't learned a lick about you since, via posts or pictures, or anything else.

I doubt we'll ever cultivate any sort of relationship online. 

...and I already removed your husband for being intolerable.

For the time being, most family members have had a pass.  But you're family-of-family-of-family-of-family, so for the sake of the project, you're an easy pick to remove.  Maybe I'll see you at a holiday down the line.

So Gosh-darn CUTE!

Don'tcha know?

You moved away after an unforgettable series of VERY unfortunate events in middle school.  They were all the more appalling because you were such a nice person.  And still are.  Sweet, wholesome, and jeez, I'm out of adjectives already.  Probably just having a hard time concentrating because my insulin levels are out of control.

Anyhow, your constant postings about the sweet, wholesome, and... well, whatever... things your kid is saying three times a day, and the smattering of motivational and inspirational posters make me harrumph like the curmudgeon that I am.  Although you did impress me with the number of exclamation points you followed my birthday message this year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do I wish you well?  You betcha!

Rules are made to be broken.

That "would I ask to crash on your couch" rule?  The one that would give me pause to unfriend someone?  Yeah, about that.

I DID actually crash on your couch -- or, more accurately, your floor -- once upon a time when my soon-to-be-ex-vehicle broke down on the way to a camping/music festival with my already-ex, but soon-to-be-fully-"divorced" boyfriend.  Talk about awkward.  We were in each others' company only because we'd (I'd) bought the tickets before the breakup, and then the stubborn asshole refused to give his up, and I had no other ride.  The payback for that ticket and the car repairs (which I otherwise never would have seen a penny of) resulted in my guitar, so I can't complain too loudly... but I digress.

I barely knew you then, but you were a close friend of a few of my college housemates.  You'd moved away before I'd moved in with them, but had been around enough times for me to know that you were good people. 

We'd jammed a few times at open-mics around town, and I'd sat in on a few of your solo gigs.  but sometimes two females don't click so well sharing a stage, especially when one is convinced that they're on the cusp of "making it big."  I'm honestly sorry that didn't happen for you.  You had a lot wrapped up in that dream.  And you were talented!  (Probably still are?)

The only other real connection we had was a night hanging out in my (shared) college house, watching The Green Mile.  Just as the movie reached its apex, the phone rang.  For you.  The call that let you know that your beloved dog had just been hit, and killed, by a car.  Eesh.  I drove you home.  Forty silent minutes away.  Again, awkward.

So, I hope you're in a happy place, at a happy time.  It was nice to click through your pictures, and to say hello.  but I think there's not much else to say.  Peace, love, and rock and roll!

My Real-Life "Unfriend"

You're my unfriend.

I'm not sure what happened.  We got along.  We never had a falling out.  We spent not a hugely significant amount of time, but definitely a significant period of time in each others' company.  And then you moved.

Ten minutes away.

It was after you'd experienced some personal trauma, which I can't fully understand, and therefore can't even begin to judge -- but you clearly chose to deal with it by shutting out anyone and everyone that you'd had any contact with when things went down.  How odd.

So.  I hope you're enjoying your great big new house, and new friends, and new baby (that I only ever knew about through the grapevine, pregnancy and all)!   If we ever connect again, I'd rather it were in person instead of one-sidedly through my updates.

Today was a tough one...

but you seem to have abandoned your account.  At least a year and a half ago!

You were a very dear, close friend (my best!) from 3rd - 6th grade, and then moved out of state with your family.  It was so nice to connect again online, and see that life had been good to you, and you are happy.  Your disappearance coincided with the birth of your second son, so I can only assume that's why you disappeared.  If you should ever return, I'd surely "re-friend" you, but your continued absence makes this a no-brainer of a deletion, even if you are tied to a big chunk of memories. 

Like EVERY Jewish holiday, ever.  Latkes will always make me think of you!

Happy New Year!

And back at it, with a vengeance.  There is an as-yet-unposted list of folks I deleted throughout December, so I am keeping up with my culling of the friends' list, but not with the blogging aspect of it. 

It still feels petty and hurtful to remove people from my virtual life, but I keep reminding myself that in 99% of cases, it's not a relationship I'm severing, because simply having a name in a list in no way constitutes a relationship.  I'm not severing memories, because most of those have been diluted with time and distance as well.

Still trying to keep with the "would I ask this person if I could crash on their couch?" rule to determine who stays, and who goes.

Today's cull: I loved the gap between your front teeth, and how you would try to hide it when you smiled.  You didn't smile often, so when you did it was genuine.  And I loved your art -- especially your balloon-string people series.  Brilliant.  I hope you've found a happy place, and that you're smiling a lot more!