2191 miles

On Tuesday afternoon I asked my boss if I could take my half-day of "informal time off" the governor gave us on Christmas Eve.    She readily agreed, as the beginning of the semester can be stressful.  I didn't actually extract myself until almost 3pm, so I later got an e-mail from her ordering me to take another half day off soon.  Have I mentioned how much I like working for her?  I do, indeed.

Anyway, I was chilling (really heating) at the spa after my "service" and got to thinking about Facebook.

Honey and I had been to this self-same spa the previous Saturday. (No treatment, just soaking--should I mention we got gift certificates for Christmas?  I'm all for keeping the economy going, but this is a lot of spa time).  Anyway, Honey noticed that a woman was sitting behind us on a rather hard uncomfortable bench while eating a banana.  We were changing.  Not ten feet away was a padded bench next to a fountain.  Honey decided (and I think she's right) that this woman had achieved true spa mindstate.  Eating her banana on a hard bench while people changed clothes.  Directly behind their butts.  One might also use the word fugue.

I am never able to achieve that mindstate.

Which is why I was thinking about Facebook at the spa.  Given some of the other stuff that has been going on in my life, I was actually doing pretty well thinking about Facebook.

I was also thinking about how much my steam rooom skill has increased.

First encounter with a steamroom=pretty much total I'm drowning in eucalyptus water panic.  Now--I can be in there for a long time.  Not as long as Treecup can get beaten up by jacuzzi jets, but a long time for me.  Growth comes how it does.

I had resisted Facebook.  My brother likes it.  He has a lot of friends on it.  It seemed like something he did.

Then, last spring I was standing around on REALLY hard marble at my dissertation advisor's retirement party.  Why does marble hurt to stand on so much?  Anyway, a bunch of people were talking about Facebook and how they had a Facebook group and and and.

So I signed up.  Which was fine.  I was friended by some people from grad school.  Then Honey signed up.  Then a couple of blog friends who know my name found me.  Ok.  I also friended my brother and sister-in-law.  See how enlightened I can be?

Ok, so some colleagues from work found me.  Also fine/good.  One of them suggests a lot of things to me.  Also ok.   He's like that and he's a good guy.  I don't have to TAKE his suggestions, if I don't want to.  Plus, he also friended T, despite never having met her and he sends her almost as many suggestions.  In that sense, I confirm that it's his approach to Facebook and I don't feel either special or put upon.

Anyway, then I found a high school friend.  We had been in and out of touch, but I figured I'd poke her.  All of a sudden (and it was probably not a result of my friending her), a BUNCH of H.S. people started friending me and each other.  I agreed to all requests, but didn't initiate any.  Recently, I looked over my friend list (which isn't long) and my "people you may know" list and it's 75% high school.

I live 2191 miles from my high school (and yes, I did just look it up).  I didn't like high school very much.  I have exactly ONE person on my Facebook friend list from college.  I loved college.

The presence of people from more recent periods in my life is more easily explained.  But the high school to college ratio is puzzling to me.

The thing is, the high school folks mostly seem like the kind of people I might like now.  Funny, down-to-earth, liberal, interesting and engaged with the kinds of things I care about.

I am going to "unfriend" one of them--though I haven't decided how confrontational to be about it--who affiliated himself with the American Family Association yesterday.

It's odd, actually, to think so much about high school now.  It's more than 2191 miles away in time.  I'm glad to be through and past it.  Don't much want to look at pictures of myself from it.

Having a good relationship to my past self is not always easy for me.  Hell, having a good relationship to my present self isn't all that easy, either...

I was also thinking this week about a friend I used to have right after college.  He called me a few months ago and assumed that I had caller id on my home phone.  I didn't and cannot find him.  I've tried and recently got an e-mail about him as a result of my search that suggested his life has been very hard.  It brought me no closer to him and has made me very sad.

I can only do the best I can.  Sometimes that means looking at pictures of myself in ugly shorts and thinking about high school without being freaked out.  Sometimes it means staying a little longer in the steam room.

2191 miles traveled.  Or more.   A lot more.

(BTW, is any blog readers want to "friend me," send me an e-mail sporksforall at gmail dot com and I'll friend you up, yo).

Business Balloon Sunday Pinch Hitter

Business Balloon note:  The ephemeral nature of business balloon will out.  eb took her blog down and with it all the balloons.  I've removed the links, but trust and believe that the baloons were there once, both interneterally and corporeally.  Where there once were links and, therefore, balloons, I've italicized.  Feel the loss with every italics.

The guvment of Houston Texas has let the people of America down.  eb brought me such joy.  Almost every week.

eb paid tribute to our wedding

Teresa and I even helped out

Then there was the 40th birthday tribute (complete with Elizabeth Mitchell--contented sigh)

2008 was a good year.  It had lots of business balloons.  (Other things happened, too, of course).

Then Houston went and messed things up

Here's the thing though, what Texas does wrong, Hawaii can help fix.  See we just got rid of the semi-Texas doofus in the White House.  Got ourselves a nice Hawaiian fellow in return.  Aloha and mahalo.

So, here's my contribution, straight out of Hilo.





Did I mention that this balloon was clean and accessible up close?  It sure was.



I love me some Hawaii.  Happy ballooning my blog-ohana.