Remembering Sondra and Jude

In 2018, I got off of Facebook for mental health reasons, and it worked! Unfortunately, I have missed some major life events in the lives of people I consider dear friends. I'm going to tell you about two of these people.

Sondra, Jude, and I met (along with others like Jennifer, Jade, Amy, Stacy, Liz, Angela, April, and Aura) on a Yahoo! Groups page dedicated to Rockapella in the late 1990s. I have SO MANY stories I could tell you about the Rockapella days, but we're going to stay on track here, starting with Sondra.

Sondra lived in the midwest and had been in a small orbit of the town she grew up in her whole life. She was several years older than I was (I remember feeling weird when she turned 40 as I was still freshly into my 30s), and had worked at a big box retailer her whole adult life. She lived in an apartment over a convenience store, that also had a view of a major waterway. 

Sondra was a photographer and loved doing portraits and candid shots of friends and family. She would also capture unusual boats coming down the river by her apartment. She had an old cat she loved very much.

Her family had been through a lot, including the death of her mother when she was young, and the loss of a house to a fire before she lived independently. She adored her father, and was close to her sisters and their families. She loved kids so much, though she never had any herself.

At some point during my late 20s, Rockapella was coming through Las Vegas, where I lived at the time. A lot of people I'd only met online were coming into town to see them, but Sondra couldn't because she didn't have the money. I knew that not having money was a recurring theme in her life.

We didn't have a lot of money, but this was pre-kids, so I figured that I could swing the airfare and get her a ticket when I bought mine. I floated the idea, and she thought about it. She'd never been on a plane, much less traveled that far from home and alone.

After talking to her family, who discouraged Sondra from visiting me because I might be a man and regardless would probably kill her and bury her in my back yard (remember, this was before it was normalized to try to meet people you'd only interacted with online), Sondra decided to come out!

We had a great time! I think my ex-husband didn't want to deal with anything remotely related to Rockapella, so he left town for a few days (I had and still have no idea where he went, and honestly couldn't be bothered to think about it at all). I had just found out I was pregnant, and was a little nauseated and sleepy most of the time, but we went to the Fremont Street Experience (when it was new), bummed around on The Strip, spent time with my family (she was enamored with my niece Hannah), and chatted a lot.

I did not kill her nor did I bury her (alive or otherwise) in the back yard.

Several times during the week, she "spoke" online with the aforementioned Jude, another Rockapella fan she'd started to kind of long-distance date. They were super cute, but I also remember one night being just beat and ill and lying on the couch, grateful that she had something besides me to occupy her. But she was having so much fun chatting that she kept yelling to keep me apprised of their back-and-forth.

Sondra and Jude had a lot in common. Although they were only a few years older than I am, they were both old souls. They loved Lucy and other contemporary television series. I guess an acapella vocal band is kind of old-school. But they were both sort of unimpressed with more modern entertainment, and really bonded over nostalgia. 

So... I thought it might be neat to post the one picture I have that Sondra took of her and me at Red Rock Canyon, and I don't have it anymore. Not to go on too bleak of a tangent, but I'm not kidding when I say that my ex-husband hated anything to do with Rockapella. At some point, I think I got rid of anything remotely related to that in order to try to "save" a marriage that was never going to be fixed.

After the concert and meeting so many new faces who would go on to be long-term friends, Sondra flew back home. That trip gave her the confidence to make plans to go see Jude in person. They saved up for a long time. She worked in retail, and he worked at a local grocery store.

Jude lived in Louisiana. I probably got to know him better than I would have otherwise because of our mutual friendship with Sondra. He was a little sillier and more light-hearted than she was, though he'd certainly seen his fair share of adversity. One of his two brothers had died pretty young. Like Sondra, he had grown up and remained working-class. 

I do have pictures of both of them, from a cheesy pre-Photoshop (to me, anyway; apparently PS was already 13 years old at this point) thing I made to hype Sondra up for her trip. I scoured the internet for pictures of them separately and did... well, this monstrosity.

 

Over the years, Sondra visited Jude a few times and he might have gone to see her once. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but they eventually split up and it came out that Jude was gay. When we spoke, he insisted that he'd told Sondra "exactly what I am" from the beginning and either she didn't fully believe him, or thought love could "fix" things.

Jude and I actually got closer after this, because at least one member of Sondra's family had reached out to him and been very accusatory and chastising. She told Jude that he was bad to break Sondra's heart and that he needed to change his ways or he'd end up in hell. 

First, I thought Jude was a stand-up guy and I liked him. Second, I unknowingly dated 2 gay guys in high school, and I could totally empathize with him in a way that I wish I'd had my "gaydar" up and could have empathized with the young men I dated. But it made sense: Sondra was a woman, like me, whose femininity isn't performed over the top. And having a long-distance girlfriend/fiance is very comfortable for a man who cannot, for whatever myriad of reasons, live a fully authentic life.

I knew that Jude had loved Sondra in his way (the same way I think the guys I dated cared about me and had no intention of hurting me). And I knew that he didn't deserve to be attacked or condemned by someone who had maybe only ever met him one time.

As time passed, of course our Yahoo! Group slowed and shut down. Everyone was on Facebook, so that's where we kept up with each other. Less frequently, of course, as we all matured and had busier IRLs. 

One day, Sondra was at work and this guy she'd gone to high school with turned up. He was expressly looking for her (they were both well into their 40s at this point). He told her that he'd had a crush on her and very quickly asked her to marry him.

He was a kind and generous guy who ended up telling her that she could quit the retail job she had hated for three decades to concentrate on her photography. They still lived in her little apartment over the store, and they seemed very happy.

One thing I noticed about Sondra, though, was her predisposition to kind of having a "Debbie Downer" way about her. Maybe she always did, but as I loosened up, I saw it more .There was a time or two she'd comment on something I put on Facebook and be negative about it in a way that got on my nerves. I sniped back a time or two, and we'd go for a while without communicating, but we were still always friendly.

Jude went on with his life and started to come out of the closet a bit, at least online and kind of away from his home circles. I never asked too much, but he seemed like he was happy enough, just that he wished he could find someone for a real relationship instead of someone who was just looking to use for whatever. 

After 2018, I pretty much lost touch with both of them. I do sometimes check in on old friends to see what I can see from their public profiles. In 2023, I sadly put together that Sondra had been in treatment for cancer during the second half of 2022. She had posted something like, "I am hopefully going home tomorrow. I miss my cat! It's going to be hard learning how to live with diabetes and heart disease alone with the cancer, but I'm taking one day at a time."

She never made it home. 

I scrolled through hers and her husband's profiles. It looks like she'd had a great support system, with the volunteer fire department holding a benefit to raise money to help with her medical expenses. I am so sorry that she's gone. She was still in her 50s. I never met nor interacted with her husband, but I hope he continues to be happy and do well.

One of the last times I interacted with Jude, he was telling me that his phone had just died and he didn't have any money for a new one. That's how he was using apps to meet like-minded folks in the area, and it really cut him off from a social window that was hard to come by. 

James had just upgraded his phone (which was rare; we don't usually get a new phone until an old one dies, but he'd done a lot of research on PlusOne and had to make the leap). so I asked Jude if he wanted James's old phone. We sent it to him and made sure he got it up and running. It never occurred to me to tell him to grab my phone number while he was setting it up.

We're going to Louisiana soon, and I thought it might be cool to finally put a face with the name and voice I have for Jude. I figured I could find him on FB and try to send him a message, but I was surprised with how many people have his name. I googled his name and city, and found... his obituary. He just died last year, from complications of diabetes. He was 55.

Aside from the normal sadness that comes with having friends die, I firmly believe that ZIP codes and household incomes growing up have a lot to do with the fact that I'm still alive and my friends are not That part makes me mad. I don't know what to do about that, so I'm just sitting with it for the moment.

I do take comfort in the fact that Jude, too, had a support system. There was a barbecue fundraiser for him a few years ago to help raise money for his medical expenses.

Both of my friends were well-loved.

Both of them had to raise funds for their medical care, though, which is extremely cruel and should offend anyone who believes that life is sacred,. Access to preventative and ongoing care should be a human right. If you don't believe that, then you are one of the reasons my friends are gone from this earth much too soon. They worked hard. They simply could not afford the care that they needed to ward off problems before they started, nor to combat disease once they were ill. 

And so I remember them both with sadness that our system works like this, but with a heart full of beautiful, complicated memories. I'm better for having known both of them.

...

OH! And I just remembered: I don't think my ex-husband knew that Sondra never paid me back for that airline ticket. I lied out my ass about it, because it was one of my little rebellions. So if you are reading this, sir... well, I won't type it in case my mom comes across this post.

Real Question: Do people actually LOVE LinkedIn??

Okay, here's the situation: 

(My parents went away on a week's vacation and they left the keys to the brand new Porche...)

I have an account on LinkedIn because apparently that's what one does. 

When I first set it up, I saw it as a joke so my profile picture was a snap from play rehearsal where I was a convicted arsonist, wearing an orange jumpsuit and everything.

Still one of my favorite pictures ever taken of me.

Anyhoo, I made my profile with absolute irony because the idea that there would be a "social media" site dedicated to people's professions just seemed impossible to me.

Over time, it's gotten a lot busier over there. I'm more plugged in at the moment because James is looking for a job, and I like to keep on top of contacts' businesses who might be hiring.

The thing is, NO ONE over there is doing anything ironically. People pontificate about their professional life and the culture around their careers with an absolute earnestness that is completely foreign to me. 

This is probably a personality flaw in me and if you've ever worked with me, you probably already know this: I have never given much of a crap about any profession I've ever engaged in.

I mean, I am an overachiever and believe that if I'm being paid, I should do my absolute best. I'll sometimes even go above and beyond. AND it's devastating if you have a reliable source of income that dries up.

In that way, I'm kind of a model employee. 

But am I passionate about private home rentals? Do I want to read more about the trends in residential leasing? No never not one bit and the only time I've pursued this type of thing is when it was required for continuing education credits.

Now... I understand about networking. D is wanting a more administrative job than what they're doing at Ross. When I was thinking about the office job's I've had, they were ALL gotten because someone knew someone: Boyfriend's mom knew architects who needed a receptionist; dad was the HR manager of the parent company where the newspaper advertising department needed a gopher, mom's friend from church worked at an employment agency who placed me at Terra West, and a friend saw online that I was needing work so invited me to join their insurance agency.

Is that basically what LinkedIn is? 

And if so, why are people so adamant about creating consistent and lengthy content?

Does that really help when you're job searching?

If you're a LinkedIn connoisseur, I need to know: Is this an enjoyable part of your career building or is it just a necessary evil? Please enlighten me.

 

A Social Media Memory

 When I was cleaning out a drawer the other day, I came across this.

This is a pendant I got to commemorate two years of breast-feeding. I believe I got one for one year, and for eighteen months. I wasn't sure when we'd be done, so celebrating 6-month increments was how we did it.

By the time we hit eighteen months or so of nursing with Mal, and he showed no signs of lowing, I got involved in an extended breast-feeding (EBF) group online because I knew we might be in it for the long-haul and that encouragement was pretty important to keep going until he was finished.

I'd kind of put a foot in the door of breast-feeding "activism" earlier, as Mal wanted to nurse pretty much every few minutes, so we ended up doing it everywhere.

The Austin airport.

The Ladybird Wildflower Center. Church. Every restaurant we visited (which wasn't many because Mal cried A LOT and after that, he moved around A LOT). Church. Parks. On a dolphin-watching tour off of Port Aransas.

Again, basically everywhere. And I was fortunate enough not to have anyone ever bat an eye at me about doing this in public, but I know some women get unsolicited "feedback," so I felt it was important to make sure that parents have the right to feed their very small children when and where they want to. 

All of that to say, I hadn't been able to nurse D, and was pretty happy that it was working out with Mal. Even though he wanted a go a lot more frequently that I would have picked. And even though we ended up doing it a lot longer than I would have elected (right at 4 years, though I don't have a pendant for that, because... that's just a long time, folks).

So.

I got a 2-year pendant and thought that was momentous enough to share on Facebook. I received exactly two comments before removing the post. The first was, "Wow! You can get stuff for breast-feeding? Because I did it for 7 years straight between three kids. My husband should have bought me a car." And, "I never got a medal! Where's my medal?"

Meh. I didn't need anyone to be like, "You're a hero!" but an, "Oooh, that's neat!" or even a NOTHING JUST KEEP SCROLLING would have been acceptable. It was my post. People make everything on social media about themselves (me included; one thing I've hopefully improved upon in the past two and a half years) instead of just celebrating with people who are celebrating, and being sad with people who are sad, rather than trying to one-up everyone's situations.

So I took down the post. It hurt my feelings. Rained on my parade, if you will.

If you ever tell me that you started attending Toastmasters and just gave your first public speech, I will high-five you. I won't muse that I don't find it nerve-wracking to talk in front of a bunch of strangers, because who the hell cares? You get your wins, and I get mine, and I'll be happy for yours even if they're wins that aren't challenges to me, or that I don't understand (like running an ultramarathon).

It's like we think we have a responsibility to provide input into everyone's lives, since they post pictures or updates in their social media. You might feel badly for your child because they have a cough, and inevitably, someone will mention apple cider vinegar or some kind of homeopathy, or insist that you do this or that, instead of just well-wishing. If you're having a problem with something, at least one of your friends will explain that you got yourself into your pickle by doing it wrong in the first place. Sure, they'll wish your dog happy birthday, but it's emotionally overwhelming to me to deal with all of the other stuff. 

But I digress...

Basically (Mal's favorite word right now), 1) celebrate each other's victories, will ya? 2) Thank the sweet, sweet baby Jesus we're two good years past what I was afraid would be an entire childhood of nursing. 3) I like talking to people in real life and don't miss social media in the least. I missed it not at all at first, and it just seems less and less appealing as the months tick by.

Oh, was there an election last night? I'm avoiding news about that, too. I'm learning how to protect my emotional well-being; I'm getting pretty good at it. But I won't tell you how to do it for yourself, because I trust that you can make your own choices.

Self-Care in the Age of Social Media (and other assorted chaos)

Over the past few years, I've divested from most social media. I quit Facebook two and a half years ago; after I got past the habit of thinking in status updates, I didn't miss it at all. I bumped up my Instagram usage at that time, but after a year, quit that, too. It had gone from pretty happy inspiration to more pointed politicking and bickering. I was on Twitter for a spell, following fat activists and other public figures I'd grown to admire but then, of course, it ends up being distilled into mostly hot takes and trolls so I stopped that. Finally, I was starting to get more involved in the Austin subreddit. It's a pretty calm place, and even arguments are largely respectful and calm. However, "the algorithm" decided that I like news, and so the feed was largely heart-breaking headlines from around the world. Last night, there were two in a row that made me say, "Nope. This is out, too." So I deleted it.

In the months since the pandemic began, I've actually had the time and mental wherewithal to read only a few books. But they've helped me focus in on what's important to me and what it is to which I want to be exposed.

Two nights ago was the first "Presidential" "debate." I didn't watch it, because Joe Biden and Donald Trump have been in the public arena for almost as long as I've been alive. They're known quantities. There are no surprises to be revealed. Why even bother? 

Apparently, I made the right decision, as 69% of watchers who were polled reported feeling "annoyed" by the process.

I'm choosing to head off annoyance at the pass.

I'm doing this by reading books that have a strong point of view but are not written in a purposefully inflammatory way. I just finished "The Liturgy of Politics: Spiritual Formation for the Sake of Our Neighbor," and am about 2/3 of the way through "Stamped from the Beginning." I highly recommend both. "The Liturgy of Politics" is definitely from a Christian perspective, and is convicting but a pretty easy read. "Stamped from the Beginning" is taking me longer because there is so much historical information that every once in a while, my brain needs to rest so I can digest some more. But it's impressively dispassionate; the author writes with a much cooler tone than I feel when I read about the injustices that we have wrought on our fellow countrymen throughout the US's past.

I'm selecting news sources that have a humorous bent because at least then I know they're going to editorialize and help me release some of the pressure from pretty heavy stories. Most "news" outlets editorialize wildly, but it's angry, and they're trying to engender anger (from every side) because it helps ratings. Not interested.

I'm listening to podcasts that report news from a different perspective than mine. I enjoy things like Code Switch and Latino USA because I have always had my news delivered to me, a white middle-class person, from a very uniform source. Black Twitter and The Root are extremely eye-opening, and I appreciate the education. 

I have not watched "The Social Dilemma" but they were discussing it on "The Holy Post" the other day (another podcast I enjoy, even though I'm a little more liberal than most of them, and a lot more liberal than some of them) and Phil Vischer mentioned how the documentary pointed out that when someone sees a news item that leans the same way they lean, it further reinforces their point of view. So "the algorithm" decides that you must really like stuff that is super conservative, and it feeds you that, whether it's from your friends' feeds or from the news feed itself. Then advertisers seek out people with that POV and feed them even more outlandish things, and it basically creates this echo chamber that "radicalizes" pretty much everyone. If you're left, you're going to be pushed WAY left; if you're right, you're going to be SUPER right-wing. I do not want to let outside sources determine what news I hear or how I feel about any of it. I'm trying to make deliberate choices both for my own mental health and for the sake of my being a better, more well-rounded "neighbor."

I won't want to talk about politics right now. I know that it's hard for me to articulate how I feel without getting emotionally invested and likely angry. I need to work on myself more before I can have a calm conversation about why I believe what I believe and how I can't understand why you can believe or disbelieve certain things. Basically, I need to deprogram myself.

I tried this experiment on Reddit: I was only kind. If I said something and someone responded with a "Are you saying this?! Then you're an idiot!" (that's editing; people attack a lot more creatively) I would respond with a sincere apology. I didn't let myself get riled up. It was actually very freeing. I need to learn to do this in person. With people I like and even love. It's harder, though, I think. Like if I believe that every human deserves equal rights and that it might take more work to get us to that point, and a stranger disagrees... okay, whatever dude. Just get out of my way. But if it's someone I'm trying to respect and have a relationship with, it's a lot harder not to descend into, "What kind of a monster are you?! What does it hurt YOU if this person gets to do this thing, or that person gets an extra one of those???!"

So please excuse me if I just walk away when items of a divisive nature come up. I won't disengage forever, but I have to for now. I have to figure out how to be the person I want to be even when faced with things I cannot believe exist. 

Also...

I'm a naturally optimistic and happy person. I like that about me. I have ended multiple friendships with people who were sad sacks and vehement constant victims because although their perpetual anger and hurt was tiring, when they expected me to get on board with their "The world is against me and everything sucks," I could not support them in that way. I don't believe that. I don't want to believe that. I want to be able to hone in on injustices without imagining them where they are not. Sometimes, when your tire goes flat on your way to a job interview, it just sucks. It's not god or the universe punishing you because everything is a bitch and it always will be. 

And it's hard to be happy when everyone seems to want you to be super incensed about everything "the other side" is doing. The enemy is real; turning everyone and everything into "the enemy" makes it impossible to fight the real battles. 

Anyway, all of that to say that I'm tired of being tired in my brain, so I'm disengaging from things that both stress me out and do not profit me to think about or discuss. Also, here is a picture of some ducks from the lake.

I'm just gonna zoom... away

You know what has been reiterated in my brain the past few weeks? I am NOT a video call person. I have never enjoyed them and I continue not to enjoy them, even as everyone is going to them as a way of connecting face-to-face.

I decline.

I don't need to see someone's face in order to feel their presence. When I'm on the phone with someone, I usually do things like cleaning the kitchen or sweeping or taking out the trash. These things are neither visually stimulating nor easy to accomplish if you have to hold a device and keep it trained on yourself.

When you add in more than two people, it just goes straight off the rails.

I know that people use Zoom and other conference technology for work. I think it mostly works in that way, because it is assumed that there is an agenda and people are mostly orderly in their input -- although James told me today he also eschews most "let's just get on a quick Zoom call and wrap this up" invitations because he prefers email, where both parties can think about their words and present a coherent, complete thought that will also be in writing.

But my church is trying to keep people in touch with Zoom and every time I've participated so far, it's been awkward. Either one person just talks more than everyone else, or when people try to chat, three people start at the same time... then stop... then start again... and it's just hard. There's a difference in person, where you can kind of feel the timbre of the room and tell by someone's body language that they're about to launch into a story so you don't interrupt. As much.

Also, it still doesn't "feel like" getting together. If you get together with a group of 12 people, there might be three active conversations going on at once. You can't do that if you're on a Zoom call. And hearing. Maybe it works for people who use sign language, but, again, you'd have to maximize the right window. Ehh.

THEN this week, they did a virtual happy hour (which James's work is also doing) where they were going to have a sing-along. Oh my word. My sister and I were talking about this earlier, how Zoom emphasizes one single sound source. It's kind of neat when someone starts talking and Zoom identifies who it is and highlights their window so you can tell who you're listening to without having to scan thumbnails.

However, this means that whoever sings loudest in a sing-along will be the main thing one hears, even if that's not the person with the accompaniment... or pitch. It just sounded like an awkward disaster waiting to happen, so I begged off. Well, it *was* my anniversary. And I also decided that a sing-along like that must be total hell on the other people in the house who are not participating. Especially if the user has earphones, as I would have.

So if you want to get in touch, feel free to call me! On a voice call. After you've texted me to warn me. And maybe I'll answer. Miss you all, though! Really!

A Decades-Old Google SNAFU and How I got Around It

Back in 2007ish, we decided to set up an email account for D, who was wanting to start blogging and chatting with cousins. Although I've stayed with Hotmail (now Outlook), probably indicating that I'm old but really because I think it looks cleaner, we picked Gmail for D.

A few easy steps later, and we had an account in D's name...

Unfortunately, there was an unforeseen problem in that I was logged into YouTube in the same browser, and did not realize that meant my YouTube account would be connected to D's email account. When I went about trying to figure out how to separate them, the answer was, and still is, "You can't."

So we set up a different email address for the child, and for the past ten years, I've used Google Hangouts, Photos, Blogger, YouTube, etc. under my own name as the nickname, but with the address d*****.***@gmail.com.

Several times in the past, I've looked into separating all of my accounts from that email address, and it's never been possible. However, D's almost an adult, and is very conscientious of any online presence under a real-world name (or facial recognition, which is why you will almost never see pictures online anymore; I take a few here and there, but never post them out of respect for D's wishes). So I decided to try again.

And, again, the big answer is "you can't."

But there are some smaller answers.

There is one service I read about where you create a new Gmail address and it will move everything from all of your Google accounts over to the new one (and, by Google's count, I was using my identity for 41 products, so that's a load). I decided to try that one out, and they gave me an estimate of $70 to transfer 116ish GB of data, and said all of it should take about 28 hours.

This sounded promising, but while I waited for the data plan on my new account to kick in, I did some more research.

The first thing I found was Google Takeout. This is a free data download facilitated by Google itself, similar to the "download my data" feature Facebook has. I signed up for that, and it created 79 2GB packets for me to download. That seemed hugely cumbersome. I looked in my computer and saw I had about 65 GB unused memory, so instead had it bundle the data into 3 50GB packets, which we ended up downloading on James's hardwired desktop, where each download took only about an hour.

Those downloads actually only included my Google Photos, because while we were waiting for everything to be organized and a download link sent, I did some more research and was able to move many things I cared about much more simply than downloading and uploading.

For ease's sake, I'm going to call the old account AB and the new destination account YZ.

1) Blogger.
AB added YZ as an author to the blog, along with James. Then we made YZ the owner, and YZ booted AB. Boom. Complete blog left intact with zero down/up.

2) Drive
I only had about 500 files here, so it was easiest just to download the files and upload them to the new account. I'll have to have my sister re-share with me (YZ) a map, but that's the only thing I'm missing.

3) YouTube
This one is a little convoluted. You can change your personal YouTube channel to a brand instead. I guess maybe in case you realized you were doing a lot of promotion and wanted to keep your personal YouTube channel separate? Anyway, I changed my channel from AB's personal channel to Gatannah Files, which is somehow considered a brand now because I said so. Then AB added YZ as an owner. You have to wait 24 hours after adding a new owner to make that person the primary owner of the channel, so the next day, I did that. YZ then deleted AB from the channel.

4) Photos


YES, friends. This calls for an announced Angel singing sound effect!

I had right at 55,000 pictures in Photos, so even though they zip the files to send you your data, there's not a lot you can do to .jpgs to make them much smaller. This was A LOT of stuff.

You can add a "partner" to your Photos account. So AB made YZ a partner for the whole shebang. My concern was that, although I could see the pictures in YZ's Photos account now, what would happen when AB disappeared?

Well, there is actually a handy button that allows you to save your partner's photos to your account. You can either choose, say, "Save all pictures of Mal" or you can keep the filter clear and IT WILL SAVE ALL OF YOUR PARTNER'S PICTURES TO YOUR ACCOUNT.

It took well over 36 hours, but finally all of AB's pictures saved to YZ's account, and Google did all of the heavy lifting because they just copied them to a different cloud, or corner of the cloud, or whatever. No down/up action on my part.

I'm still glad we downloaded the data because we can make redundant copies onto my external hard drive once I locate it (found the Mac-formatted one, of course; can't find the Windows one). Also, it helped me be less nervous about actually cutting the cord.

So after all of the photos saved, I first tested it by going back into AB's account and removing YZ as a partner. By this token, any pictures not saved to YZ's account (and therefore anything I might take in the future) would no longer be visible to YZ. BUT ALL OF THE PICTURES WERE STILL THERE!

These 4 were my main concerns. After they were squared away, I finally -- FINALLY -- deleted that infernal thorn-in-my-side email identity for good!

And now I can just waste my time watching TV online again.

Feels good to be free!

I don't want to live by FOMO

This morning, I read an article on The Verge entitled, "I tried leaving Faceook. I couldn't."

In it, the author talks about one year she was off Facebook because of a terms of use violation, but how otherwise, in 12 years, she's been on in spite of not liking it. Besides the "groups" function, which really annoys me, too, because there are plenty of useful groups and FB used to have a Groups app you could access without the rest of the site, her basic reason boils down to Fear of Missing Out (or FOMO).

"I missed big personal news from people I knew. I missed dance parties and house parties and casual get-togethers. I was the last to find out about births and the last to see baby pictures. Classmates got engaged and married and I didn’t find out until after my hiatus."

I get it. I used to have over 200 views on my boring daily blog posts. Now that I'm off of Facebook (and therefore don't share the link), I get 30 on a good day. But I don't need readers enough to justify staying on a social platform that no longer serves me.

Because here's the truth: Any person who read (and presumably enjoyed, if they kept coming back; perhaps it was morbid curiosity) could find me and even sign up for notifications when I publish an entry. They were clicking through out of convenience.

That's a point the author above makes: Facebook does the "emotional labor" of maintaining contact with people so we don't have to. Thing is, that's only sort of true. It casts such a wide net that it feels like connection, even when it's not.

If I don't get invited to a friend's (or friend's kid's) birthday party because I'm not on Facebook... How good of friends are we, actually? If I want a friend or one of Mal's friends to come over, I'll contact them personally. Same with birthdays or meet-ups.

I don't really want to be "convenience" friends. I'd rather have one or two people who miss me so that after a while will reach out and suggest we get together sometime. If I miss that someone got married, then that will be something cool to talk about when we see each other. They can tell me a story well-worn to most people, but it will all be new and exciting to me!

Some people have asked me why I got off of Facebook whenever I did it. I don't have a pat answer. It wasn't the data stuff. It wasn't the polarization. It wasn't the time suck. It wasn't one thing. At some point, I just decided that it wasn't serving me, and I cut ties.

One thing that was a definite emotional drain on me was confrontations over misunderstood articulations of opinions, misunderstandings that would be much more easily avoided in a face-to-face conversation. I'd spend time offline mentally constructing replies that were gracious but absolved me of unflattering or ill-fitting opinions that had been assigned to me.

So many of my conversations in person were starting with, "Somebody posted..." I was being exposed to information not of my choosing, and it was taking up mental bandwidth that is already at a premium, what with maintaining a house with a teenager and a preschooler.

There might be downsides to leaving the largest social media platform on the planet, but I haven't felt any of them strongly enough to consider jumping back in.

Everybody have a great week! (All 18 of you!)

Hashtag Retirement Suggestions

If I were any good at clickbait, I would have titled this more grabbingly, but I didn't want to be rude.

Anyhoo...

I did not come early to the Facebook game, joining sometime, I believe, in 2008. However, once I hit it, I hit it hard, and it quickly became my go-to for socialization in a life that was otherwise pretty lonely at the time (yes, please, let's all pour out some diet Coke for that past incarnation of Laura's World).

The one thing I never got behind, though, was the use of hashtags (our "pound signs" for those of you my age and older who also don't appreciate the dang hashbrown thingies). I eschewed other forms of social media, most notably Twitter and Instagram, for a long time... until the political landscape in mid- to late-2016 was so toxic, I took a couple of months' break from scrolling through the Facebook sludge and went to those two outlets to post and interact.

I loved how Instagram was mostly devoid of ranting, and quickly unfollowed people who only posted "infographics." It was bliss.

It was also this time that I started to appreciate the hashtag, in terms of ease of searching for related items. When we were thinking about moving to Spokane, I found #spokanedoesntsuck to offer some of the most fun and real slices of the city (as opposed to just looking for pictures tagged in Spokane).

Going down the rabbit trail of someone who "liked" one of my protein toddler concoctions, I found #macros that fascinated me for days. You have to wade through pictures of people weight-lifting and posing and whatnot, but there is so much food porn that's just incredible. These people who do extreme workouts get to the end of the day and often need to make up a bunch of fat and calories and protein to get their required macronutrients for the day (thus the hashtag). What they can get away with eating is incredible. Not worth working out, you know, but I like the pictures.

Which is to say, I "get" hashtags now, and appreciate their utility.

However, there are some hashtags that irritate me to the point that I think they just need to go away. You are welcome to disagree, but this is my blog, so I'm going to tell you what they are:

1) #nofilterneeded
It's probably a sign of the times we live in when I assume every image I view has been altered in some way. That's fine; a lot of times, I take a picture and what's in the view screen is not what my eyes interpreted. Punching these shots up to make up for your camera's white balance being off or your phone camera's inadequacy is cool. If someone takes an amazing picture and uses the hashtag #nofilter, I can more fully appreciate the magnificence of the capture as well as the subject. So I dig that one.

But the "no filter needed" hashtag is condescending. "This is one of God's beautifulest creations, and if you think that it requires altering through some basic pixel manipulation, then I will see you in hell, good sir." Thanks for the sermon.

2) #thestruggleisreal
This one, I get. There are lots of things that we can agree are common issues we butt up against every day. My problem is that, like "love," this gets applied all over the place. We can talk about the struggle for racial equality, or the struggle to lose that last 5 pounds. It can't mean everything, so it means nothing. Basically, it's suffering from overuse.

What if the Bible had been written in modern day? "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. #thestruggleisreal"

Thank goodness, it wasn't. Still, we're left with posts like this: "I need to put on pants to go to the store, but, ugh. Pants. #thestruggleisreal"

3) #blessed
The only acceptable use of this hashtag is ironically. For example: "This year, my husband celebrates being married to me for four years. #blessed" Or "Because I fractured my ankle, I get a temporary handicapped parking placard. #blessed"

When people say stuff like, "The MRI was clear! #blessed" or "Just got a raise! #blessed," they don't mean "blessed." In the first case, they mean maybe "fortunate." In the second, "hard work rewarded" or "lucky they're not paying attention."

4) When a hashtag actually just means you're adding another thought. Or many many thoughts.
Like I said, for searching's sake, or for grouping's sake, the hashtag is awesome. But often, people will write something like: "Just got home from vacation. #laundryfordays #realitysucks #ualostmybras #whereisthehamsterandwhydoesthesnakelooksohappy" or "Best day ever. #mysonborrowedmycarandlostmykeys #agarbagetruckhitmycat #poopedtwodifferentpairofpantscauseibs"

Just write it out. It takes so long to decipher the long hashtag with no spaces that I don't ever read that stuff. I'm just going to assume you really had the best day ever, and good for you. Besides, the odds are very small that you're ever going to remember that hashtag later, if you want to recall what you posted. "Was it #mykidborrowedmycarandlostthekeys or #sonborrowedcarlostleys or... oh, dang it."

In fact, in that second example it'd be better to write out what happened and use the #bestdayever. In the first, write out everything and use the hashtag #realitysucks. Oh, and goodness, can we stop using "vacay" or, worse, "vaca" (which is Spanish for cow, right?) in place of "vacation"? Sorry; it's not hashtag related, but it's a personal pet peeve.

My point is that those hashtagged items aren't incidental or searchable. They're part of what you want people to understand. So just write it out.

5) *sigh* Wedding hashtags?
Okay, okay. I'm waffling on this one just a bit. Admittedly, my first eye-roll reaction to this is likely my age, because "back in my day, we didn't have to come up with some clever classification just for the internets" or something like that.

But this is a lot of pressure if you're talking about a not-very-creative couple. You have to come up with something general enough to be easily remembered (even though you write it on your invitations, a rustic chalk board at the sign-in table, and probably have it on a piece of paper at your reception centerpieces) but also distinct enough that you can easily find YOUR stuff online.

For instance, if we'd used "jamesandlauraswedding," that might be like 5000 people and counting. We didn't do a wedding hashtag; though if we had, it might have been #junkmywedding. Because we got married at the Cathedral of Junk. My guess is #thisisajoke would have returned too many results (we got married on April 1). And #againreallylauraatsomepointyoumightwanttoadmitthatyouaretheproblem doesn't even fit nicely on one line in this blog, much less on people's phone screens.

I don't know. I can see how it's an inexpensive (free) way to gather pictures from your wedding on Instagram and save them for yourself. And I'm sure this phenomenon isn't going away, so... I don't hate it as much as I used to. I only half-roll my eyes.

6) #truthbomb
The visual of someone saying something so profound that all that's left is a devastating silence when they walk away was super powerful. Or it was when you first heard it. Now, like #thestruggle, it's just... whatever. "Poop stinks. #truthbomb" "His new girlfriend just isn't that pretty. #truthbomb" Nope. Let's stop it.

Related: #micdrop.

"I am #theway, the #truthbomb, and the #light. No one blows up the Father but by me. #micdrop" Some people are just understanding this passage for the first time.

That's it for now. As you might be able to tell from this entry, I'm going to be closer to 90 than birth pretty soon, so you can probably expect more of this type of opinion. OH NO. WAIT. THERE IS ONE MORE, on that note.

7) #hatersgonnahate
Who are we, that we have so many denigrators and detractors? Is it possible that there are largely imagined?

In addition to the fact that I don't think most people have genuine "haters," the redundancy of this is irritating: Haters are going to hate. Well, by definition, yeah.

Guess what else? Bakers gonna bake. Loafers gonna loaf. Children gonna chill. No, actually, they're not. I wish that ere true. But crackers gonna crack. I've seen it.

Stop fooling yourself that anyone thinks enough of what you're doing to summon up hate for it. Most of us have our own stuff going on and don't have the excess emotional energy to hate the fact that you ate an ice ream sundae for breakfast three days in a row. In fact, if I saw you, I'd give you a high five.

Okay. That's it. Fin.