Googling "sympathy losere images" responds with a few great images.

I wish I had the kind of personality where I didn't internalize everything.  It bothers me when total strangers are upset with me, so when someone consistently and deeply hates me, I can't let it just roll over me.  I know, I know, I should just feel mildly sorry for him, confident in the assurance that living well is the best revenge: except for monetarily (and possibly career-wise) I am clearly ahead...

[Wow, everything takes on a different flavor now that I know he is trolling this.  Hey you, loser. F-off. You are not wanted here, and you are hurting yourself and the children as much as you are hurting me.]

Anyway, i should be getting groceries, and instead I lost about 3 hours just feeling scared and sorry for myself.

I was sitting with the boys last night, before they got to sleep, just talking about whatever.  Moo has taken to calling these our "whine sessions", where they can just complain about whatever is bothering them that day, although truthfully, there is not too much whining. So I'm just relaxing, yawning, thiking about how much I have left to do before I go to sleep. And I mean to let out a lazy "I'm so tired", and instead it comes out "I'm so scared."  Dang! Did I really say that?! Damage control!!

Too much stress personally and universally, and I'm scared.  Maybe I shouldn't be, I know.  But, I'll tell you for sure, I avoid classes about "Betachon (the trusting side of faith) means never having to say 'I'm scared'".  For me, right now, that would be like saying "Anything is possible, so lift that car off the ground."

I have books for Po waiting at the library.  Between cycles at the laundromat, I went at 11:57 - I read the sign that the library doesn't open until 1:00.  So I did other stuff for the boys, was insulted by the wasband, who tried to humiliate me.  In the end he definitely comes off looking like a total jerk to more people than he anticipated,

[Hey you, I said go F-off, I'm not writing for your sake]

and yet, I go home and sulk and eat for three hours, go back to laundromat, then library at 4:12 - library closed at 4:00.  DAMNIT!!!!Damnit, I can't take it, damnit........and I just cried.  Then went back to the laundromat, then here to work (also for the second time today), to set up something that had to be done this evening to prepare for tomorrow.  And I so hate my job anyway. Hfff.

And I just want someone to bitch to, but all my friends are being so good to me and already doing so much for the barmitzvah, and I really don't want to go to the well again. But maybe I will anyway.
 

Freakiest Baby Item in a While

Oh my gosh! I passed the box for this monstrosity out on the curb for garbage collection.  A child is supposed to sit on this "chair" with a gaping hole and ARMS TO GRAB HER, then do her business in it to HEAR IT TALK TO HER TO CONGRATULATE HER afterwards!?!?!?!?
And we wonder why kids are so messed up...

(Yeah, I do have more relevant stuff to write, but I'm holding my tongue for now.  Let the troll sit tight.)

Guess Who's Reading

Back in the ancient days, when Zenith computer monitors displayed little more than orange type on a black screen, and email was a new toy mainly confined to academia, my programming professor, recently transferred from the abandoned “communications” department, warned all us young’uns to be careful not to send out emails in the heat of the moment.  Emails are written in private, allowing one to escalate an entire rant to unfortunate heights without the stabilizing factor of the recipient present, or at least listening in real time by telephone.  Emails do not allow for the nuances of timber, pitch, facial expression, etc.  Emails are there for the recipient to save and use, every word captured exactly. And, unlike snail mail, emails are so darn easy to send immediately, without the need to stuff into an envelope, address, stamp, and walk down to the corner mailbox, affording less time to awaken your better judgment to just rip the silly thing to pieces.

Luckily for me, although not to my credit, I am so in love with the flow of my own words in print, that I will often re-read my email letters many times to perfect before I hit that Send button. (This is yet another example of a commonality between myself and the Wasband that one might point to as a reason why we belong together…what can I answer?...)  So I felt relatively safe that my computer-disseminated thoughts were not coming back to bite me.

Yet, someone has been trolling this blog, probably as well as my FaceBook comments. Now I know I had said previously that, as this is a public site where I ENCOURAGE strangers to read my essays, it doesn’t make sense to accuse a reader of “trolling”.  I guess I didn’t consider the possibility that someone would attempt to use what I had written here against me in court.  Whoops! Silly me.

So let me share some of the things I learned today:

·         You really never know who is reading.

·         You really never know to what unimaginable levels some people may be driven by anger.

·         You will have a hard time using a post from a semi-anonymous, hobby-type blog as admissible evidence in an American court of law.

·         Should you attempt to enter into a protracted legal battle, it is wise to find counsel who is able to convince you when your case is frivolous. 

I might have thought one would not need to be even an ex-lawyer, to understand those last two points. Again, silly me.  

For all the rest of you followers, perhaps I should be clear: You should not take anything written here as unaltered truth.  Although all these blog posts start in my head, triggered to some extent by occurrences in my life, I let them flow into an artistically judged essay.  This is a semi-anonymous, hobby-type, clearly-public forum = I can write whatever the hell I want, and who is to say what is fact or fantasy.  Unless you are Ms. Useful or Little Miss Inside, if they even exist, or a select handful of other people who actually know me enough to reasonably see these essays for what they are, it is absurd to assume you have any idea what is true, what is a metaphoric stroll or dizzying hyperbole, and what is pure fairy tale. 

But really it’s all completely true, except for the stuff that isn’t, that is anyway, even though it isn’t…

Okay?  Anyway, hi there troll!!! It’s so satisfying to know you are took the time to read me.  And although no one else would understand your humor, The Flopster Society had me rolling with laughter.