Tip of the Iceberg?

Just got off Facebook. Curiously, I don't consider myself addicted, but I'm not sure where to draw the line. I think it lies a little further out than where I've gone. It's not the draw for me that it is for others, but I can totally see the appeal. If you're nosy, it's the perfect drug. Facebook news about one's friends and distant acquaintances is well, sort of consensual gossip, no? Well, not always entirely consensual:) I daresay there might be one or two photos out there that people would rather bury deep in a fortified bunker many leagues underground...

I rather like it on several levels. One the one hand, I catch up with the goings-on in my friends' lives without having to actually put out much effort. Mmmmmm. Very satisfying for my introverted soul. On the other hand, if I want some attention, all I have to do is post something a bit intriguing, or add a new friend, change my photo, or my status, and up pop the comments. Nice. Usually. Or, I can indulge my desire to spy a bit by scanning a friend's profile, looking for updates. Creepy, but I'll bet I'm not the only one who does it. And someone has probably done it to me. And someone else to them. C'mon, it's not like I'm a full-on stalker, right? Riiiiight. Maybe I'm a little closer to that line than I'd like to be. But full-on, certifiable stalking is a whole other, disturbing issue.

I've been the object of a stalker's attention. Thankfully, he was on the relatively harmless side. But it was pretty damn uncomfortable, nonetheless. Trying to figure out how to deal with him was one of the most distressing aspects. While I knew his attention was inappropriate, he didn't seem to have a clue. And I didn't want to make it worse by provoking him. Luckily, for some reason, he merely left me a few long, long messages and then, eventually gave up. I know a few women who've had it worse. It can be very upsetting and scary. The stalkers need psychological help, because they're deep in denial, unable to perceive boundaries, out of touch with reality. Which makes getting help all the more difficult. And, of course, that kind of denial may just be the tip of a very large, very nasty iceberg. Not all women (and some men) have been as lucky as me. Sobering thought for the Facebook crowd.

People are People, so Why Should it Be...?

So much for my pathetic attempt to try NaBloPoMo for the official run in November. I completely forgot to post something/anything yesterday. So instead, I'm just going to do what I can, and hope that I have a repeat of April (23 glorious posts!).

Today is the U.S. presidential election. I'm pretty sure Obama will take it. While I don't truly believe he's the Messiah of the free world, I do think this is a significant moment in U.S. history. One ceiling is about to be smashed in spectacular fashion. I would love to debate the pros and cons of a race-focused campaign, but I don't think this is the right forum. It's such a touchy issue, so fraught with cultural and historic landmines, and so universal. If you have not been the object of racial prejudice, you probably know somebody who has, regardless of skin colour or the shape of the eyes.

It goes far deeper than melanin, the substance that gives skin its colour. Yeah that's right, more than skin deep. Even science can be opted by racists to try to justify their cause. I wish we could look beyond it and concentrate on merit and goodness (both of which, I admit, are subjective), but it's one of the hardest things to do in political dialogue.

In my Utopian view of the future (maybe this borrows, pathetically, from the world of 'Star Trek'), I pray there will come a time when people are just people, with all their strengths and flaws. They're not 'black' or 'yellow' or 'red' or 'white'. They're just human. That's all. Hopefully, voting for change is the beginning...

Chaud et Froid

So Mr. Cute Singer continued to blow hot and cold, and we ended it with a hurried, awkward kiss to the corners of our mouths in front of quite a few people at the final shindig. Huh. The kiss was the perfect manifestation of our ambivalence towards each other. But, for some reason, I wasn't especially embarrassed. More like amused. I don't think we ever quite accepted each other.

I'm not sure he found me fun enough, or perhaps I didn't flirt with the expected vigour of a college girl in heat. Or maybe I wasn't ambitious enough; maybe he was looking for a real go-getter. Dunno. It's sheer speculation, as I don't think I'll ever get the truth from the horse's mouth. I likely won't be seeing that horse again.

As far as I was concerned, two things were holding me back. First was his creepily slavish devotion to that self-motivational movement mentioned below. Second was the hot and cold behaviour: the private jokes, the teasing, the seeking me out at social gatherings. Then the ignoring me, the eyes scanning the room when I started in on anything like an actual conversation, the walking away without so much as a hug goodbye. WTF? No wonder I held back. No sense making a fool of myself over that kind of treatment. When it was good, the chemistry was very, very good, but I don't think it was unique. I got the impression he held a number of females in his thrall. The idea that it wasn't special for him burns, because that sort of thing doesn't come my way that often, and when it does, I loooooove it.

So there we have it. The end of something that was/not was. Zut. Surely I could do better than that. Couldn't I?

One man for himself

I work with someone who drives me crazy. And everybody else, except our boss and a few select people who seem to be able to look beyond his self-centred, patronizing behaviour. I want so badly to be Zen about him, so as to fend off the irritation, but it's proving harder than a vow of chocolate abstention. In his world, there's no team, just a bunch of people he has to work around. In our world, we actually try (and sometimes fail, but c'mon...) to support each other. More later...