Facebook: Friend or Foe?

As a functioning social-minded person of today, I find that Facebook lately has begun to grab more of my attention than that of my actual friends. Facebook is always there to advert my fingers from typing what I actually want to search for, such as “Adverse reactions to acetaminophen.” Instead my subconscious mind unknowingly types in www.facebook.com. There I am once again! Led to scroll through my friend’s status updates like a raccoon searching for his next piece of discarded buttered toast in the dumpster. Twiddling my thumbs for anticipation of the little red notification in the upper left bar, I anxiously await who saw my status update and/or newly updated profile picture and what kind of delicious comments I can gobble up. A feeling of accomplishment arises as I settle down in my green lazy-boy recliner and say to myself “Well done, you have shown the world a little piece of yourself once again and by the looks of it, people like you, they really like you.” Eventually, I forget what it was I wanted to accomplish on the computer in the first place and return to my mundane life, full of useless tasks such as work and actual eating. Sure, it might sound ridiculous to some, but Facebook has become my confidant, my friend in times of useless boredom and activity. It has become a place for the whole world to see who I really am.

On the other hand, I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to life than Facebook. People have survived for centuries without the use of frequent “Lol’s” on their friend’s funny Facebook photo or having to remember their new password because their ex-boyfriend kept phishing their account. People must have gotten on somehow right? Which leads me to my next pondery. I was at work the other day, having issues with my coworker wanting to exchange “words” so to speak and I became flustered pink with panic. At first my face had a quizzical expression as if he had just told me to go spelunking on the river gorge after I had finished my banana avalanche. The realization had hit me that he actually wanted a response soon, so my first thought was, “Go get your keyboard and post a status update asking your friends what to do in this situation.” Alas, I could not retrieve my laptop or my smart phone so I was faced with a dilemma, a dilemma that demanded an answer. When one becomes confronted face to face with exchanging “real” emotions and actual sounds, can we use our silly face emoticon or say, “ROFL?” You could, I suppose but it might merit an unsolicited response to go straight to the Looney Bin. Could Facebook be taking away the basic knowledge and skill of interacting with each other?  Quite possibly.

In conclusion, I leave the audience with this: What did prehistoric folk do when faced with confrontation? Did they take a swing of the bat, or aim of the gun if they knew their livelihood was being threatened? I’m sure they did, but we live in the 21^st century, the century of Facebook, and for that I am grateful no persons will be hurt in the manufacturing of new messages, links, updates, or photos. It is then up to you to decide if Facebook has made you a better person, a person like me, or if Facebook has left you wanting more out of life like actual friends or a “real” life (whatever that is), then perhaps facebook has become your foe. By the way, your grandfather added me as a friend, I hope you don’t mind if we hangout, on Facebook that is. 

Love Thyself

Do you love yourself? Do you find meaning in your beautiful soul, do you applaud your heroic acts of waking up everyday to face the glowing pearl in the sky? If not, well, news flash: You are not going to find love if you do not find it in yourself first. And how does one go about finding that true inner peace of contentment in our own skin? We see the woman walking down santa rosa avenue, a few extra pounds, shaking her thighs in too tight cut-offs, heels so high. She's not ashamed to show off what her momma gave her, even if her momma forgot to wrap her gift in perfect shiny ribbons and silver bells. No sire, she holds her head up, facing onward and loving every minute of her seemingly perfect imperfections.

And so, my question is, how does one love themself before another can delve into that giant four-chambered organ responsible for the good in mankind? We see ourself according to the silent expectations society slowly creeps into our minds by way of television, internet, bus ads, you name it. We are programmed to want more, want it now and to question something once we get it. The motto for today's young population is "Always want what you can't have and once you have it, trade it in for something better." In a constant state of limbo, a slacker's paradise, we are becoming a degenerative generation where the motives for improvement stem from the exterior god of dissatisfaction. We see something we like, we have to have it now. If we can't have it, we pine, we pray, we do everything in our energy to attain it. Once we have it, what now? Do we cherish it or throw it away? And that is just how our love for ourself reflects our love for others.

Do we base our inner love for ourself on the exterior pleasures of fast cars, skimpy clothes, and loose sex? If and when we attain such things, are we any happier with what we've accomplished and where we're going? To acquire the seemingly impossible, the unreachable goals, the likes of almighty Mt. Everest's glory. What's it all for? Recognition, money, fame? Things that you can't take with you to the grave. We morph ourself to fit into a world full of misfits, only those who "seem" normal or molded for this society build themselves up for it. They work out at the gym for hours a day to get the perfect beach body, they dye their hair to match their "inner personality," (when in reality, they all seem to have the same personality in L.A.) We mock what we do not understand, what is different from us. We flee from uniqueness when we really should embrace it. The world is not black and white, there is not one correct way of doing something or one type of look that is deemed "attractive." We are all beautiful in our flawed, imperfect ways. When we realize and accept this, that is the real meaning of loving thyself.

Catching Flies

Contemptuous thoughts that fill my mind, so many attempts at trying to do right in a world full of wrongs. I see her sleep on her soft white side, the pillow heavy with a ball of black wavy hair. Peace at last. The never-ending race of running towards heaven has now reached the finish line. But for a few hours, bliss can be known as our lids begin to flutter to the waves of thoughtless oceans. Crowds of hands clap to the appraisal of adoration, babies with sparkling blue eyes yearn for a caring touch. Friends and past lovers come together for the final curtain to draw.

Here we are, standing at life's boundless stage, ready for an encore or the flight of red fruit's regret to come our way. Hello tomorrow, today has come and gone. What was once a promise turns to a question, was it really real all along? It's easy to wander through this desert of quandary, to find shelter in life's casting shadows, but when it's all over and done with, will there be a light in a tunnel or simple dirt on our halos?

I see the quick-legged spider exploring each crevice as if he knew where he was going. Sometimes he stops for a fly, then picks up his brown body in search of refuge to build a home. Many times he goes unnoticed and his destiny is reached, but many times his path is interrupted by a giant flying paper, having the final say in this spider's life. Are we living unnoticed, building nests in safety's clutches or are we taking chances, risking the plight of paper's flight?

Sand

How many times can a heart break before it forgets how to put itself back together. If not once, but thousands of times I let you in to dance to my mind's desire and assume your way perfectly into this relational resume. You, then, being perfect and complete, find your hands on another temptress' bosom. Far away from our cheerful gazes and soft midnight embraces, you stumble into the darkness of her forlorn touch. You cast your eyes away from the one who is as a rock, grounded by the currents never ending tide. Now shaven pieces lay glistening on the sandy cove. What once was a part of solid promise, washes on the shore, waiting to be picked up and cleaned for perhaps a new chance at being adorned once again. A shallow blue wave swallows the dirt beneath my plight, two hundred more come to devour me in the night. Embedded in this earth of shallow soil, further and further I sink in it. I am no longer recognizable, the toss and sway of the oceans tumble, chips away at my being in this exposed state, left to fumble. Barrels of salt water flee from this desolate place. Wanting to savour the unbeknownst feeling of a true love's taste. Now I wish for eternal slumber and perhaps to wake up to a new horizon. Shh little darling, don't be afraid. One day the flood gates will burst, one day there will be no more pain.

Some food for thought in these hard times.

In turn of recent events and realizations, I've come to the conclusion that you can't buy happiness or love. You may think if you only had that ONE special thing, the everlasting gobstopper of youth or the infinite supply of coolness and style then you'd be set for life. For women, it's attaining that supreme level of attractiveness and sparking desire in the opposite sex, to gain security, understanding, and most of all, love. For men, it's being recognized for your strength, talent and sometimes, bank account. In a world that feeds off of instant gratification and gadgets that fill every need, it's easy to lose ourself and our patience.

We want things done now, our way, on our schedule or it's not going to happen at all. We would almost rather be alone than finding someone who makes us laugh but can't coordinate with your schedule or perfect ideals. I've realized, that when it comes down to it, there is never enough raw exception of another individual for who they were born to be, rather a constant tweaking and critiquing of their faults. Were we meant to go through life trying to fill that void with materials and perfection, or were we simply meant to live and let live? It seems the latter is getting harder and harder to do, but not if you look hard enough for the person behind the exterior.

Just a Thought...

Imagine for one minute, you open your eyes for the first time to the brightness of the florescent hospital lights. You take your first breath and cry your first tears. You have just been cut off from your main food source for the last nine months. You think, man, it was so warm and safe in there; now I'm in this cold, sterile place where people are fussing over me and putting me in weird contraptions. That's where I immediately thought to myself, "Why am I here?"

Still, to this day, I ask myself this absolute question. Why are there planets, galaxies, stars, atoms, and Rosie O'Donnell? Why do I have to go to school for x-amount of years, complete said degree to receive this rare green paper to buy the things that distract me from the ever impending question of who I really am and where I come from. I think someone should at least devote their entire existence to finding out how their existence and all other life came to be. That should be a career in itself and whoever finds the answer will become the first president of the entire universe. I know, you're probably thinking I sound like a certifiable nut cracker, but you have to admit you thought the same thing at one point in your existence.

Respect the Coffee

Today was what you'd consider a "bad day." The morning started out all right, I woke up, got dressed, yada yada yada. It's when I went to work the day gradually began to get worse and worse. There was quite a bit of people in the store, of course that's not unusual for Starbucks. I sign on for my shift and immediately get to work, no time for small talk or hello's. One by one, I take the money, I give them their coffee. I take the cards, I get them their pastries, etc, it's like this the whole day. Sometimes there's downtime, and that's used for cleaning and restocking. During these rare times, I don't know about you but I like getting to know my coworkers (you know, the people you end up spending a third of your day with). I strike up a casual conversation starting with questions like, "What did you do for Halloween?" and "Have you tried the new Gingerbread latte?" These answers are short and sweet, just like my favorite Starbucks beverage and they usually require very little effort on both parties. I've asked these questions long enough when I'm trying to be amiable and open with someone to let them know that I'm an okay person and that I like it when people actually talk to me. This is not the case all the time.

I've been there for a little over four months and have worked with pretty much the same group of people, some of them I feel more comfortable with and others I have to walk on eggshell's when I'm around them. One particular individual who shall remain nameless I had initially thought was a nice guy, friendly, genuine, and somewhat shy. I thought maybe he was shy around everyone but apparently it's just me he chooses not to engage with. So much to the point that I continually make the effort to talk to him, be friendly and retain a positive work environment. Otherwise, I'd feel like I were at a painstakingly boring gathering with no one but my in-laws to talk to. He answers me when I talk to him, but that's only when I need to know whether the drink is a grande or venti and when I ask him how he's doing. He seems to be more open with the new coworkers whom have only been there a month; he laughs and jokes with them. He even asks them politely to do something, but with me it's not asking, it's ordering. "Noelle, wanna get me some grande hot lids?" "Go get me some more chai, will ya?" It's almost as if I'm a golden retriever and he's the owner holding a biscuit. Now this guy appears to be a nice guy, glasses, a bit overweight and assumedly, pretty easy to go up and talk to but he acts completely distant and indifferent to me.

Why is this? Why do people in general, not just this coworker seem to act as if you're a nuisance in their life, a petulant insect just flying around their windshield, waiting to be squished by their wiper blades? The guy who throws you the money instead of politely handing it to you. The person who insists you remake their drink because they're "paranoid" that that one drop of milk in the pitcher is going to poison them? The woman who spouts off ten orders at once, barely giving you a moment to write it all down. Impatient, rude, juvenile, and completely unaware that the person behind the counter has real feelings and is, quite realistically, the same species as you, a human being.

I'm not asking for every single person to have a heart-to-heart with the barista, hostess, waiter, or any of those unfortunate souls who are stuck (yes stuck, because no one truly enjoys being in retail, unless you're well, different). I'm simply asking for common courtesy and the instillation of the good old motto of treating others as you'd like to be treated. We're all here in this crazy, confused and chaotic planet, we might as well make the best of it before we're gone. How will people remember you? A short, bitter cup of coffee, or someone with a sweet grande heart?