smh

ugh, I really hate that I've gotten used to using txt shortcuts.  But this one is my new favorite because I find myself shaking my head when people try to tell my something important about their lives.

And not just me, they broadcast it.  They post every single thought, every impulse, every up and down.  With some people, it really isn't so bad, and I realize that my own mood swings happen with a similar rhythm, so I can relate.

But lately, the newsfeed on FB (yes, I know, shame on me.  I've shut it off and gotten back on because I'm addicted to the games) has been blowing up with all these senseless and completely private status updates.  (I learned my lesson, I don't change my status that often, and when I do, it doesn't reflect necessarily what I'm feeling. It's usually a non sequitur, something that can't be interpreted because of its lack of context.  I have at least three different kinds of data streaming around me at all times, and sometimes a phrase or a line in a book will resonate, and I throw it into a status update, like a touchstone.)

I am a bid proponent of being in control of your life.  If you don't like something, change it.  Don't drag your friends down with you, fix it yourself.  I'm not saying I won't come through for anyone who needs me, but if it is the same problem over and over again, if you come to me with a problem and I give you a solution, and you do NOTHING  with it, then don't come back and tell me about the same old shit.  I am not to blame for your inability to handle your life and your affairs, and I don't want to sit here and listen to you whine because you don't have the balls to change your life.

That being said, a second thing is bugging the shit out of me too.  There's a guy at work, perfectly likable, a really good replacement for my old buddy Jacob, who has decided that I'm a fun person to talk to. That's cool, I like him, he's generally fun and easy to work with.  But today, out of left field, he starts talking about his days as some skinhead bully.  Maybe he's lightened up in the last few years, but there really is no mistaking that I am NOT WHITE.  So he's going on and on about how great it was to bust some skulls, and all I could do was think to myself "why the hell is he telling ME about this?".  I tried to walk away several times, but he would follow me, keep walking and talking to me about splitting some guy's head open, or bashing some guy's car up with a golf club.

I don't want to know about who you were.  I am interested in who you are now.  Perhaps the bright lining is that I now know where you started, but there's just a little too much nostalgia in your face as you talk about kicking someone while they were down, leaving a boot print on their face to remind them who's white.

alright, rant is over.