PRIVACY NOTICE

Warning: any person and/or institution and/or Agent and/or Agency and/or fanboy/fangirl and/or stalker or any governmental structure (except the high school I graduated from, you know who you are) including but not limited to the United states Federal Government, the government of any nation in, on, or near any continent whose name begins with an A, an E, or any other recognized letter, the moon, Mars, or Venus (excluding Venus's southern hemisphere) monitoring/using/not using/unaware of this website, any of its associated websites, or any unrelated websites...

*pauses for air*

...you do NOT have my permission to steal everything I've ever written under all my various pseudonyms (because I acknowledge that you are all-knowing, omnipotent, know when I am sleeping, know when I'm awake, know when I've been bad or good, but I'm good, for goodness sake so stop watching me pee!) and use it to better the world, including my pictures, and use them to throw darts at, including my art, and draw mustaches, then say you drew it.

Because, of course, the government has nothing better to do than break into random Joe Blow's Facebook and download pictures of his rottweiler sleeping with the new kitten or his kids sitting in a wading pool. In fact, their intention is to steal the pictures of every middle-class person with a Facebook account, edit them in Photoshop, then use this doctored photography to throw them into one of the many empty prisons just sitting around.

Oh damn, I got sidetracked.

You are hereby notified that you are strictly prohibited from disclosing, copying, distributing, disseminating, or taking any other action against me with regard to my stuff that I already mentioned. Even if it's illegal. Especially if its legal status is questionable. Because I know that telling you not to prosecute me means that you can't. In fact, I could go rob a bank, but if I told everyone in the bank before I robbed it that they are hereby notified that they can't identify me in a police lineup or a court of law, they are legally forbidden from doing so. Because I said hereby, and that means business.

(Note: I have never robbed a bank, and I don't intend to, just saying.)

The foregoing prohibitions (See? I said foregoing too. Ha on you, loser!) also apply to anyone I forgot to mention, including Venus's southern hemisphere, your employees (yes, yours), agents, students, friends, families, and any pets capable of speech, whether they're under your direction/control or not.

In other words, consider everything I've ever done, even if I posted it on the internet for the world to see and checked the "public" button on my privacy/security settings, private and legally privileged and confidential blah blah, blah, the violation of my personal privacy is punishable by law.

Celebrities are so dumb not putting signs up or wearing buttons that say this stuff on them, because if they did, they wouldn't have to worry about paparazzi anymore.

Wait, what's this? Is it a link? I wonder where it goes...

Fear-mongering: bored of it.

So one time at the cheese factory, I told them that they were legally forbidden from firing me, and they didn't. No, just kidding, I never said that and anyway, I quit that place.

9/11/11

Oh dear God, forgive me for having posted my annoyance before posting something about the losses and whatnot of September 11. I was sitting on the living room floor changing a diaper when we got a phone call and turned on the tv. I have now proved that it moved me enough to remember a decade later where I was when it happened. I also remember that the Spiderman movie was pushed back because the poster originally had the twin towers visible.

This picture ⓒ its owner, who is not me. 

99% of people won't re-post this because they're godless heathens who have no loyalty whatsoever to the Great and Powerful Oz United States.

99% of people who read this won't re-post it.

People who have backbones, people who read their friends' statuses, people who think abuse is bad and people who believe any number of honorable things will NOT repost this because they see it so much that it begins to lose meaning, or they're tired of reading that they're unworthy if they don't re-post or click like.

Am I really not your friend because I wouldn't post the third letter of my last name? I read the post, must I then prove my worth by responding to every chain-post on every friend's wall?

Yes, I added you to get friends on an application. I needed more neighbors, more vamps in my clan, whatever, and I added hundreds at a time a few times. But if you've been around more than a couple months, I've kept you for a reason. This is where you can pretend to get worried that I've stalked you, because I've visited your profile. I've kept up with your public status updates, and we probably have more in common than the games we choose to play, though that alone says something.

Some of you may have noticed we don't even play the same app anymore. Are you still a wizard? How many farms do you have? I may not remember, but when you change your avatar, I notice. I send a prayer your way when you ask, but I don't click like because hell, you don't know me. I don't know you, either. I know this guy's cat is stupid, but hilarious, I know this woman is beautiful in a way that implies she doesn't realize it, but it's all superficial.

Okay, so maybe I'm really not your friend.

I don't click that stuff for my family or my "real life" friends either, though. Really, Aunt So-And-So? You're going to delete everyone who doesn't have the backbone to re-post a copy/pasted, recycled, mass-produced comment? Delete me, then.

In "real life" I'm one of those people who's quiet so much of the time that people forget I'm there. They either assume I know everything and tell me nothing or tell me things several times because they're sure no one has mentioned it. Thanks, Dad. You told me about your congestion (read: constipation) medicine when you called two hours ago. I haven't forgotten. No, Grandma, I wasn't told that my cousin is having a bridal shower tomorrow, I did not plan on going and I have nothing to give her.

Don't re-post this if you don't care. Don't re-post it if you're too busy. Don't re-post it simply because the title has challenged you, or because you labor under a belief that people will think you uncaring or unpatriotic if it doesn't immediately grace your Facebook wall.

If it pisses you off, however, you may re-post it to share another example of how much stupidity exists on the internet. You may also re-post it if you think it makes a good point, or if the whim takes you, or if you're bored.

And remember, even though 99% of my readers WILL NOT RE-POST THIS, between 28% and 76% of statistics are made up on the spot anyway. So sayeth I.

Build a Bridge

I'm officially over living in the middle of nowhere.

I used to live just north of the middle of nowhere, but I don't anymore, and the difference is huge. I live in a town with no gas station or grocery store. There is, however, a hardware store, a bar, and at least five churches. For around five hundred people, if you count the area around the town, which actually belongs to no town at all. The church I've been to actually gets about twelve people on Sundays.

But I digress.

My current gripe is about the lack of Internet access. No one (including my grandmother, who is paying the bills while I'm unemployed) can afford it. The options are Verizon, which is apparently too pricey, and this guy who gets such a good connection that, for a fee, he'll give you the access code and you can use his. That's what everyone has. And yet, last month, for $40, the internet worked in five-minute blocks for maybe a total of an hour, maybe less. This needs no exaggeration to be true.

I have a smartphone, which is my lifeline because I can't in good conscience ask grandma to pay $40 (or, at dial-up speed, $30) for Internet that doesn't work. This leaves me unable to do a lot of things that I do online. Of course, I wasn't able to do them the past month and a half either, so the difference is that now we're not paying for it.

I love Facebook. Or, I loved Facebook. There's only so much to do on a mobile phone, which means my apps are all null and void. Can't check on my farm, restaurant, city, etc. on my phone. The family gets pissy when I don't announce things, such as the vacation I'm currently on, and earlier I got a message on one of my photos that my cousin was mad at me for being in California and not telling her. My cousin who lives in Vegas, and who'll be visiting California after I've left. Sorry, cuz, that I didn't FB-alert "the fam" that I'd be in the state.

I'm only here for a week, and my daughter is going to the mountains, the beach, Disneyland, Universal Studios, and Hollywood. I really can't visit the six-plus cities from San Diego to San Francisco where extended family resides, especially when I'm staying with the friend who paid to fly me out here, and I don't have a rental car.

Those are not complaints, by the way. Those are the fun part. The complaint is that my family is butthurt that I'm not doing my duty.

Back to the point. No Internet once I get home. I'm on a badass little two-screen setup right now that makes me want nothing more than to pull up Photoshop and multi-task the hell out of it to see what it can do, and I'm soaking it in while I'm here. In the evenings, between running around doing glamorous and exciting things, none of which involve trying to explain my life to people who don't try to explain theirs to me, either. [/bitterness]

The "F" Word

No, the other "F" word. The one that people don't like to hear from the subject of their romantic interest. Yes, that one. But let's go on.

The movie was great. I wasn't expecting the Harry/Hermione topless makeout scene, no matter that I'd been warned, then smirked at (a sign that H~ was serious and looking forward to being proven right). They did a good job of condensing a 500-page camping trip into something epic. You're not here for a movie review, though.

My date didn't look directly at me the entire night. I'm not unfortunate-looking and had been complimented via text-message on my Facebook picture, so I know it wasn't because my face was offensive. I looked pretty damned good, actually. I can understand not being as talkative in person as you are in text, considering I'm the same way, but you know the silence has gone on too long when your date turns on the car stereo.

Not to say we didn't manage to talk. At one point I was retelling the glory of Prom Night in Hollywood and Other Interesting Tales, and we compared the kind of history you learn in the Midwest versus the kind you learn in Southern California, but conversation aside, no sparks. Not one. Even if my date had nice teeth there would have been no sparks.

I'm grateful to the friend who tried to set us up. Texting was genius and I could see hanging out with this person again. No romance though, and that's why I haven't accepted a second offer to go see the Effing Trans-Siberian Orchestra. I am not shitting you, if you'll pardon the language. This person offered to buy me an inexpensive tv because mine is in storage, mentioned us stargazing at their place with their telescope, subscribed to my effing YouTube (which they'd have had to find first), and commented on three of my pictures.

Quoth a friend: That's what happens when you talk to computer savvy people.

The consensus is that searching someone is normal. However, most of us keep our searches secret. We go look at our blind date's photos, or maybe we even Google their screen name, and if we're a little crazy watch the videos they made five years ago, but for God's sake, don't leave messages on everything until you've known them at least a week. This person has now added me on Facebook, YouTube, AIM, and YIM, commented on the only three photos that don't actually have people in them, subscribed to my videos, and told me via text what they thought about these things they found. Add to that the fact that I get texted from noon until probably five, then again from about seven until I say I have to go to bed, and I'm feeling smothered. From someone I've seen in person once, known less than a week, and haven't ever made eye contact with.

So I've been looking for gentle ways to let this person down. We got along, but I'm not interested in romance. From them. The Almighty Internet says that we haven't known each other so long that an e-mail is a crappy way to send a tasteful note, but how can I do that when I just keep getting texted? I'd say stalker potential, but I'm counting on the fact that we live a good hour and a half drive apart to discourage that.

If it wasn't a mutual friend who'd set us up, this would be easy. I'd just send a text that they're great, but I'm not interested, and it would be done. I don't want to hurt my friend, though. She hand-picked someone, knowing how long it's been since I dated, and said, Here, I give you this, my friend, who I, your friend, find worthy for your attentions. She couldn't have predicted all this.

I usually make a huge deal out of things, but this is justified, right? Even after just one date?

Facebook's new groups are not my friends.

Anyone who's found themselves a member of a group they want nothing to do with gets where I'm coming from. That's right, if you missed the memo, any of your friends can add you to any group they're in, as easily as tagging you in a photo. And if you happen to have a few hundred friends because someone talked you into playing an app that you can not win at without at least 70 bazillion clan/order/neighbor/herd members, it could end in hilarity. FB's own founder was a member of a pedophile group for a while because someone added him. Google it.

But I'm not here to repeat what everyone else has written on their blogs. (Please ignore the fact that I just did. Thank you!) I'm here to entertain myself by writing. Wait. I mean, I'm here to talk about how weird it can be leaving a group you were added to. And if I entertain myself, even better.

I was added to "destroy those who threaten ur kids and pray on single moms" today. Talk about awkward. I have lots of respect for single moms. Tons, in fact. The subject is very close to me, and you guys who know me personally can feel free to have a smirk right now. Because you also know how much bad grammar, chatspeak, and misspelling kill me. I was an English major for a while because I knew I'd be good at it. It's ingrained in the very fiber of my being.

Thus began the mental war. Do I stay in the group because it's about protecting single moms and their kids? Do I leave because it uses the questionable word ur and the word pray instead of prey? If I leave the group, what will happen? Will it show up as a post in the group?

Lyric Frey has left the group. Lyric does not support this cause. In fact, Lyric wants to threaten ur kids and be very, very mean to ur single moms. Lyric is not in ur group supportin' ur cause.

No, actually, it didn't post that. It just took my name out of the "so-and-so invited these two people and 43 more" post. So I'm safe. Except I just totally posted it all here.

I'm so sorry I left your group over something as trivial as spelling and grammar! Still be my friend! We have a bunch in common and play some app together, which is why I added you! OMG I FEEL LIKE SUCH A TOOL!

I went through this the other day when a friend tagged me in some year-old Facebook photos. They weren't great pictures, but they weren't horrible. Still, they're a year old and I knew they existed. I chose not to tag myself because my name was written in the description. I spent two Facebook-days glancing at the announcement that I'd been tagged and debating un-tagging myself to get it out of my way. Then I left it. I figured it had been there two days, so whatever.

I'll try to write something that's actually interesting next time. Facebook so doesn't count as a worthy topic, no matter how much time I won't confess to spending on it every day clicking things and staring at the magic glowing computer screen. Soooo hypnotic...

P.S. I see the glaring grammar mistakes I've made, but fixing them ruins the casual tone of the post. I am such a hypocrite! Forgive meeeee!