farmbook?

so, i've been having some issues with facebook recently. (i've also noticed that i start almost every email, text, blog post, etc with the word "so." perhaps i will address that next time. or just buy a thesaurus. anyway...)

here's my deal. i have been wanting to express this in written form in some capacity for quite some time now but it just seemed poor taste to lament about facebook on facebook. i didn't want to be one of those people who joined groups with titles like "nobody cares that you miss your boyfriend so shutup about it" or "your facebook posts make me want to kill myself." i think that having those come up in the newsfeed is a little bit passive-aggressive, no? i also didn't want to just come right out and tell people that i really don't give a good goddamn how many hammers they need in order to build a stable that will house the sad, stray goat they found wandering around their restaurant while they were tending to their aquarium where, by the way, the mafia wants to recruit you. (they told me to tell you they need guns.) so in case you haven't yet guessed, i hate...the stupid...games. and that's saying a lot for me. i'm not a big hater. i try to give everything a chance, i really do. but i just need to draw the line at farmville. we all have our limits and well, i guess this is mine.

first off, who the hell comes up with these friggin' games anyway? have you nothing better to do with your time? i would say that i hope they get paid truckloads of money for thinking this crap up but i think that might make me even more angry. i'm working my ass off to pay down my student loans and some idiot is sitting in a mansion thinking of easier ways to harvest computerized crops? that's bullshit. speaking of money, did you know that there are people who pay to play these games? apparently, instead of spending precious time online, you can just fork over your hard-earned cash. real, actual dollars are being spent to help some fool have the biggest, baddest farm in cyber space. hey, why waste your time playing the game when you can just buy it? is this america or what! capitalism at its finest! are these people out of their minds? 

now, i'll admit that i play bejeweled. and i purchased the app for my iphone. but it's different: it's finite. it's played in 60 second intervals and you try to score as many points as possible. then, you're done. until you start the next 60 second game. but the point is, i don't need to ask my "neighbors" for help. i don't require lumbar or kittens or volunteers to eat my leftover mac & cheese. it's my game and it doesn't clutter up anybody else's newsfeed. i don't post my high scores. i don't recruit non-bejeweled players to come see what they're missing. you have a brain. if you'd like to play bejeweled, i'm sure you'll figure out a way to make that dream become a reality. my game. my time. nobody else is involved.

and, seriously, they need to stop coming up with new and even more ridiculous games. it's insanely aggravating. now, i know full well that my feed is safe from farmville, frontier land, aquarium county or whatever because i have successfully "hid" them all with that fancy "hide" button they came up with (it's also equally effective on the facebook users with exceedingly depressing status updates.) so there i'll be, casually checking facebook when, low and behold, jimmy just loaded up his shopping cart with fresh cantaloupe in supermarket-city. son of a bitch! three seconds later, he's asking if anyone can spare a coupon for tomato sauce so he can properly prepare his pantry for winter. what the...? how quickly can i find the freakin' "hide" button, damnit. just when i think i'm in the clear, there's one more thing i don't want to see. and, i'm sorry, but how do these coupon transactions even take place? let's say i do partake in supermarket-city. how do i know i have a coupon? and how do i go about handing over a virtual coupon to jimmy? and has anyone noticed that this train of thought just took a sharp turn towards loony-ville? maybe that should be the next facebook game.


so there's my discontent with facebook. i honestly appreciate the fact that i can easily communicate with my friends who live up to 3000 miles away that i haven't seen in years, but really, dude. ease up on the whacked-out games for a bit, mmmk? perhaps focus that energy on getting the facebook app on my phone to stop saying i have 87 new notifications when, really, i just have the one. how 'bout we work on that. that'd be sweet.

the more things change...

song of the day: born to run -- bruce springsteen

"baby, this town rips the bones from your back

it's a death trap, it's a suicide rap

we gotta get out while we're young"

(it helps if you play the clip while reading...no, seriously. it adds a nice touch.)

i've come across my blog again after over a year of silence. i have no excuse this time but i wanted to see if i had any unfinished posts that i could spruce up and send out into the blog universe to jump start me to write again. the following is the most recent draft i had written. it was last edited on november 7, 2009 and i haven't touched it. what shocked (and pleased...and also depressed) me the most is that i could have written it today. it just goes to show i've been right all along...and it's just a matter of time:

well, it's about that time again. you know, when i return to my blog after months of silence. i started this thing two years ago and i can't quite remember why. a lot of my early posts had to do with my severe dislike of the state of new jersey, the people who live here, the aggravating things they do, the smell, etc. then it morphed into a journal-esque type of blog with posts that bordered on "too much information" topics, focusing on my search for something that i have yet to find. i find myself now wanting to combine the two halves into one topic: i'd like to place the blame of my "seeking-yet-never-finding" months on the years i've spent in a state that i am now beginning to realize i have no business living in.

i am a proverbial fish out of water. new jersey is where i was born and raised. it's also the place i fled for almost nine years: the first four were for college, the last five were to try to find some sense of myself in portland, oregon. now i've been back for almost five years and i have never felt more out of place in my life. why is that? isn't this my "home?"

i was born into a sea of adults and, from an extraordinarily early age, i desperately wanted to be one. i wanted to fit in with my family, to understand and be able to contribute to the conversations that were going on around me. but i knew nothing about having a job, buying a car or being in a relationship. my most used phrase at the dinner table was "can we change the subject?" from my perspective, i was an outsider from the beginning. an afterthought. a nuisance. a burden. i assumed my addition to this already up-and-running family was a surprise. i found out at age nineteen, after reading a paper my mother wrote just months before becoming pregnant with me, that i was an accident. i remember not being particularly shocked but the words still stung. i actually have them memorized. sometimes my memory serves me far too well.

the state of new jersey holds a similar struggle for me. i have never quite felt at home here, despite the fact that i was born and raised in the heart of the garden state. i liken my history with new jersey to that of an abusive relationship. i try and try to make it happy. maybe if i change this about myself or if i say this instead of that. perhaps if i wear these shoes or drive this car, then it will love me, accept me, treat me with the respect i've been waiting for. but inevitably, new jersey pushes me down, spits in my face and makes me wonder once again, "what the hell am i doing here?"

damn...should i be in therapy or what? all jokes aside, this blew me away. is it dramatic? hell yes (hey, i'm trying to hold interest here). is there truth at the core? also yes. it's the kind of ballsy truth i need to man up and tell myself every now and then. to remind myself that i can't stay here for too much longer without sacrificing my heart, soul and sanity. what else can i say? this jersey girl was born to run. again.