Archives for posts with tag: social media


For years and years I was not a fan of Twitter. I just didn’t get it…throwing a thought out there for nobody to see. Me? I’m more of a Facebook gal…friends and comments and likes and sharing. I love the interactiveness of it. I had a Twitter account, I just rarely used it.

Until the election.

I quickly realized that posting my feelings about then candidate Donald Trump turned my Facebook page into a battlefield of opinions. I didn’t like that. I also didn’t like seeing other people’s crap about Hillary, so I stopped posting political things. And, after unfollowing the majority of my über vocal and misinformed Republican friends on FB, things got a lot better.

But I needed to vent somewhere.

So, I turned back to Twitter. There I could pretty much say whatever I wanted to. I only had 40 or so followers…who was there to offend? I voiced my outrage against Trump and my love of Hillary on a daily basis during the election.

I spent all three Presidential debates at the computer, Tweeting good points and bad, and reading what others had to say. It was very enlightening – maybe there WAS something to Twitter that I had previously overlooked.


And then, numb, afraid and pissed off on November 9, I began my new relationship with Twitter. I began to follow like-minded Americans who refuse to swallow the Orange Kool-Aid. I am hash tagging and retweeting to anyone who will listen to my outrage against Trump’s lies and contradictions.

Twitter is my platform where I can stand up and scream, “THIS IS WRONG!” And I love it.

I’ll still post a few things here and there regarding our liar-elect on Facebook, but I mostly reserve those things for Twitter. Now I just need to get more than 46 followers….



Sorry I haven’t written in so long. And word to the wise – I probably won’t write much in the next week or so either.

See, we are heading up to Martha’s Vineyard. It’s the vacation place of my youth. I almost wrote “my family” vacation place, but it’s really not anymore.

That fact is readily obvious if you listen to my youngest. Her vacation place is her Pop Pop’s house in Florida; Disney, go-karts, Daytona, water parks.

But the Vineyard is a horse of a different color…and I’m not sure her rose colored glasses are on. She is seeing it as a total snore. It will be curious to see how this plays out…will she appreciate the beauty and the splendor of a New England Island or will she hate it because she has to *gasp!*


Yes – the house that my cousin is letting us stay in has no wifi. I actually don’t know if it has internet at all, but all my daughter had to hear is that she has no mine craft, Skype, or Five Nights of Freddie for 10 days.

Yes the world is coming to an end.

While I will miss my daily dose of Candy Crush (level 969, mind you) it will be good to unplug from Facebook for a week. I mean, I’ll post, and I’ll check statuses, when we are at a restaurant with wifi, but I won’t troll – there’s no time for that. I’ll be too busy walking the streets of Edgartown and Oak Bluffs – riding the Flying Horses…vying for the brass ring.

Unplugged. That could be pretty fucking cool for a week.

See you sometime after July 9th.

Facebook thumbs downThis post will be short and sweet. It’s a rant of sorts. I just need to vent.

Facebook is a funny place…you friend someone; a co-worker, a classmate; and after time, you find out what kind of a person they really are – good, bad or ugly. I’ve had to un-friend folks who used Facebook as a soapbox. Others, who post too many annoying meme’s or only post photos of their dog get their settings edited to where I only see their posts if they cure cancer.

Well tonight I saw this post…

Asshole Post



This gal is the parent of a girl my youngest played softball with. She has posted many things I have found to be idiotic. But this one? It takes the cake. Yeah, she’s a tea bagger. An Obama hater. But this kind of disrespect toward Nelson Mandela is taking things too far.

Why would you make such a hateful comment about a man who suffered so greatly did nothing but try to help his fellow man?

What an asshole.

I wrote a comment along the lines of “maybe it was out of respect for a great humanitarian.” My comment was both liked and echoed. All she wrote back was a disgruntled “maybe.”

My last comment to her was that Bush ordered flags at half mast when the Pope died – did she object to that? I’m curious as to what her answer will be. I also told her to back away from the tea.

I don’t really care about this person. I’m almost embarrassed to be associated with such a douchebag…I think I’ll just pull the plug on the Facebook friendship.

Over the past few days Facebook has morphed into a place where I can read about the accomplishments of my friends’ kids and see pet photos to a veritable wailing wall.

See, most of my Facebook friends are old pals from New Jersey, many of whom still live in our hometown. Since the arrival of Hurricane Sandy many of them are still without power. But they have their smart phones, and the posts are plentiful.

Some are just screaming out into cyberspace things like “I need gas!” and “I want power!” Others are offering vital information, like where they can get hot food, or batteries. Others who have had power restored or never lost it are offering up their homes for anyone who needs a hot shower or a place to charge their phones.

Facebook has become a sort of life line for them – a place where folks in similar circumstances can reach out, lament and share information. And, as I’ve learned first hand, it is no place for any sort of light-hearted Sandy related comments.

A few days back I innocently posted that I wondered how many babies would be born in the northeast come July. It wasn’t the most original post – lots of people wrote something similar. But those people didn’t have facebook friends who were cold and tired.

My brother in law gave me some serious shit over it. His reply to my post?

“Just took ride through Point Beach, so devastating I have not been home since Saturday not sure if I have home any more. Glad to see ur husband has more sensitivity.”


He is referring to the fact that my husband had left him a voice message asking him if he was ok. All I had done was “like” a post of his stating that he was fine, but without power.

I responded, of course, telling him I was in no way trying to be flippant, and that he knows me better than that. At first I thought, “What a Nancy…” but I need to put myself in his shoes. He lives in a shore town – one badly hit. It’s Friday and he still hasn’t been able to get to his apartment to see if it’s still standing.

Now I keep checking his wall to see if he’s posted a favorable update. I really hope I see it, and soon.

Sandy isn’t the only reason Facebook is no fun these days – the election is also ruining my post surfing pleasure. As if reading constant Obama bashing meme’s and posts wasn’t bad enough, what’s worse is the election/Sandy combo.

Today someone posted a complaint about how long it took Obama to react to previous weather related disasters, and that he was only on hand quickly for Sandy because of the election. One of his friends posted a reply of “it’s better than Bush’s “fuck you” to New Orleans”. I “liked” that comment, and proceeded to unfriend him.

I don’t need that kind of negativity. I thought Farmville was a buzz kill – this election makes me want to unplug my Mac, pack it in the closet and learn how to crochet.

Wait, I can’t do that without Google and YouTube tutorials. Sigh.

I think it may take at least a week for facebook to return to what may be considered normal for me. Once folks have their power back and the election is over, posts should return to how the Jets suck, recaps of The Walking Dead and who’s listening to what on Spotify.

Unless Obama wins. Then I get to look forward to 4 more years of complaints. Yay.

When I was in my teens, my cousin Stello from Czechoslovakia (now Slovakia) came to live with us for a year. He worked in NYC making triple – maybe quadruple what he did back in his homeland, and saved every dime to send back home to his wife and kids. Stello had some peculiar eating habits that are still cringe-worthy to me.

Living in a Slovak household, there were always jars and bowls of odd things in the fridge. When my mom made a chicken, she would save the fat in a pyrex ramekin and store it in the fridge for some unknown future use. When Stello came to live with use I learned one of the uses. He would take the congealed, yellow chicken fat and spread it on rye bread in the morning. As if this weren’t enough to get you to gagging, he would top that with a generous dollop of strawberry jam.

Yes, chicken fat and strawberry jam on rye bread. Mm-mm good!

One time we went to an Italian restaurant. Stello ordered manicotti – I think because it was reminiscent of a dish he ate back in Slovakia called palacinke. While there are savory versions of palacinke, ours was always sweet – a crepe filled with jelly or sprinkled with cinnamon & sugar and rolled up.  When his manicotti arrived he took one bite, thought a bit and got up from his seat. He went over the salad bar, got a bowl full of golden raisins, and proceeded to dump the entire bowl of fruit over his manicotti. He then took another taste, rolled his eyes to the ceiling and said “DOBRE!” (which means good).

But this was not my first introduction to wrong food combinations. I have a sister who marches to her own drummer. She has always eaten foods in a way which has totally grossed me out.

For one, she puts ketchup on her hot dog. Now, I hope I am not offending anyone out there, but this is just plain disgusting. There is something about the mixing of sweet ketchup on a hot dog that does not sit well on my palate. Hot dogs were MADE for mustard. I suspect that the dude who invented the hot dog set out to invent mustard seconds after taking his first bite. The next day he invented sauerkraut.

I can still see her at the dinner table, holding her hot dog in her hand and dipping it in a big pool of Heinz…blech! I tried to block my view with the jumbo jar of Guldens.

Secondly, she puts mayo on ham. Ok, I think we can surmise at this point that my sister does not care for mustard, but mayo on ham? That’s gross! Ham needs that vinegary twang that only a dab of mustard, or a douse of vinegar and oil if it’s a hero you’re eating, can give it. Slathering it with mayo makes it slippery and slimy and akin to meat covered in pus.

She also used to stir her mashed potatoes and gravy with a chicken bone. While this was gross, it was so humorous and caveman like, that I have to give her a pass on that one.

I don’t put ketchup on my eggs, I don’t eat banana sandwiches, and I don’t think tuna should EVER be served hot. EVER….

But if you like these things, more power to ya…just don’t sit at a table with me while you’re eating them.

What the world needs now, is far fewer Biffs

I heard the story of Jamey Rodemeyer today, and it has left me pissed off. Really pissed off. So beware – this post may be harsh.

In case you’re unaware of the story, a 14 year old boy who was bullied for years about his sexual orientation not only in school, but also via social networking sites, killed himself.

To make matters worse, at a school dance a few days after his funeral, fellow students cheered for him during a Lady Ga Ga song, who was his idol. As they tried to remember and honor their friend and fellow classmate, his tormentors chanted “We’re glad you’re dead.”

Who does that? I mean, what sort of soul-less mother fuckers are we creating in this country? How could one person hate another one so much simply because they are gay? Or fat. Or smart. Or odd. When are we going to stop allowing our kids to torture each other?

I was bullied as a kid. There were times it left me terribly depressed. I would not let my parents get involved because I figured it would make me look like a huge weenie. However, I let my older (and bigger and tougher) sister corner the girls who were terrorizing me. She flatly told them that if she heard me mention their names in any way, shape or form, they were going to deal with her and her friends, and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

They left me alone after that, but for all 4 years of high school they shot me dirty looks whenever we crossed paths and bad mouthed me at every opportunity.

I wonder if the parents of bullies realize what total assholes they have raised. Do they hear them talking on the phone with friends, berating classmates? Do they see that their little darlings post mean, hateful things on twitter and facebook that are meant to torment someone who is doing nothing to them?

A few years back my oldest told me about a new girl at school who was a bit eccentric – I don’t remember if she had pink hair or piercings or what – but she was what I would call “original.” My daughter told me how she and her friends were mispronouncing her name on purpose – giving it a weird accent point or something to kind of tease her.

And I went ballistic on her. Calmly ballistic, but I let her know in no uncertain terms that I would NOT tolerate her bullying or teasing ANYONE for ANY reason. I told her she should go up to this girl the next day, apologize, introduce herself, and make her feel welcome.

The following afternoon she told me that she had done it, and that the girl was nice about it. I’m not sure if they are friends or anything, but at least she knows my daughter has a conscience …and a soul. I don’t consider myself to be a model parent by any stretch, but more parents need to open their eyes to how their kids treat other people. If they find that their precious angels aren’t so precious or angelic, they need to sit them down and make them stop.

Lady Ga Ga is rallying to make bullying illegal, and I agree totally. Every one of those evil little wads who posted nasty, vicious comments on this boy’s facebook or twitter pages should be found criminally liable in his death. Their parents should hang their heads in absolute and total shame.

For one person to devalue another’s life that much makes me sick. In my book bullies are no different from murderers. They don’t kill the physical body with weapons, but they kill the spirit with words and actions. All the teasing I endured in high school has left me with a lot less confidence than your average gal. It changes you.

If we can’t punish these d-bags criminally, let’s take a cue from classic literature, aka The Scarlet Letter, and make these kids wear a neon, hot pink “B” – for Bully. Or Butthead. Or Bitch. Or Bastard.


I found this link on facebook today. Like it.