Lord. My life is like Lucy Ricardo’s but with loud music, more booze, and pets. I kind of like it.
During unhappier days I asked a very good psychic when there would be peace. She said, “You are afraid of peace and the boredom it might bring.” I could see that what she said was true, and I’ve come to accept that a little bit of chaos is not a bad thing. As long as it’s not dark chaos, it keeps life lively. I suspect that many people have consciously or unconsciously made the same choice; it’s becoming increasingly apparent to me that we are all mere souls trying on various people suits and situations, and when we are able to stop freaking out and enjoy the ride, things can be pretty entertaining.
Last Saturday morning I woke up with a black eye. I have no idea what happened, just a random black eye. Then Sunday morning my Android phone committed suicide by leaping off of the bed during the night. I looked over the edge and it was just laying there, face down. So sad. It wouldn’t turn on or respond in any way. Perhaps there was just one too many cat photos on it, I pictured my poor little phone teetering on the edge of the bed, thinking it had no other choice and imagining freedom on the other side. If only it had told me it was feeling down.
Abandoned by hand-held technology, I felt cut adrift for three days until a new Droid II arrived (free via an amazing deal from Amazon, yo), struggling sadly through life with no text messages and looking battered with a bruised swath underneath an eye. It did come to mind that it might be kind of dumb to be so unhappy without a cellphone when one is surrounded by other phones and constant internet. But this is the age we live in, and while I do not embrace the music of today’s youth, I do embrace their technology.
I loooove the internet. Way more than is dignified. I’ve got myspace, which will be dismantled as soon as I muster the energy to collect all the photos housed there. There’s this blog. There’s Facebook, upon which is spent an embarrassing amount of time, and in which I communicate more regularly with friends than via standard email. And now there’s Twitter, something I swore I would not do. And then I swore that I was only joining it to follow my friends but began tweeting almost immediately upon sign-up. Drew, who thinks it’s all bullshit, said, “Great. So you’re a twat like everyone else.” Yep. I’m twatting! Just like Demi Moore, except with far fewer bikini shots. Add me! Let’s communicate pointless trivia when we could be doing something more productive! It’s @MissAnthropeNYC.
Then, on Thanksgiving, another tragedy struck. Facebook shut my page down with no warning. SHUT ME DOWN. Boom, gone! The log-in page appeared with a notice that said the account was disabled due to violation of terms. What violation? How dare they? I clicked on the link offered and it gave me a form asking for a scan of my driver’s license to check the name associated with the account.
Oops. So they were serious about that name thing? Effing nerds. I was on there under Anastasia Beaverhausen, a name I have come to love, but which was obvious enough to give me away. I had planned on changing it to something more real anyway, it was just difficult to give up being a Beaverhausen. So elegant, like royalty. It’s where the beaver live. And I never imagined that Facebook would shut someone down with no warning. What about that Indian guy that’s posting ads all over the Murphy’s Law page? Why does he get to live to spam another day?
So I sent off my response, and as expected, got no response in return. I sent off two more over the course of the last couple of days and still have not heard from them. Bastards! In the meantime, I set up a new profile and started apologizing and re-adding friends. And THEN I got a warning from Facebook that I had added too many people in one day, and if I tried to friend any more they would shut me down. So there you go. Facebook hates popular people with exotic, beautiful names.
The whole thing has made me feel weirdly vulnerable and attacked, like a virtual black eye. In the grand scheme of things, it’s clear that if this is my biggest problem for the day, life is pretty good. t’s frigging Facebook fer Chrissake. But it was weirdly upsetting, like someone had invaded my private world: photos lost, connections severed, the Beaverhausen legacy destroyed in the blink of a black eye.
Alison suggested that someone may have turned me in, to which I recoiled in dismay, “But everyone loves me! Don’t they? Who would do that, Ali?” She laughed and said, “Oh, I don’t know, Mary! You’re always so sweet!” Bitches! So there is that possibility that one of the many people I’ve offended over the years got a small revenge. But I choose to believe that it has nothing to do with my obnoxious personality, and the Facebook staff is populated by mean Nazis who hate fun.
On a less retarded note of interest, I did send a (Facebook) message to a girl who I had much drama with in the ’80’s. She was part of our friend circle until she slept with my chronically unfaithful boyfriend behind my back. I (being completely unhinged on a good day back then) tortured her for months and then beat her up at a Raging Slab gig. And in return, she sent me to jail for two days. Good and classy times, my friends. But she is actually a very nice person and dropped the charges when the philandering boyfriend in question put in a call requesting clemency on my behalf. She asked that I’d quit torturing her in return, which seemed a reasonable request. It was a large life lesson, and she has my eternal gratitude. She also went on to get a black belt in karate, so even if I wasn’t grateful and respectful, I’d have to pretend or get my own ass kicked.
Anyhoo, it’s a long and entertaining story that I am trying to write down, but I had questions and couldn’t remember some details. I knew she was online so I sent some questions and stated that I would understand completely if she preferred not to respond. She did respond, and merely asked that she’s not made to look too bad, which is pretty easily done since it’s fairly obvious who the maniac was in that equation.
So that’s my internet report for today. Not quite as pithy or deep as it could be, but it feels good to share some internet pain. And so I don’t appear completely vapid I’ll also post (in a new blog) a channel that my mom sent out today. Maybe Facebook will see it and note that I come from a nice family and it might be more prudent to go after that spammy Indian guy.