What has become of us? A long, long time ago, there was just AOL, with Instant Messaging and simple channels to guide our lives. We wanted more. We needed to connect with each other. Be careful what you wish for… 2009: Facebook was a new, interesting toy; something to play with right before bed. Looking up … More Connectivity issues
The last word to my Facebook and Twitter friends: Before the final results are in, I just wanted to say thanks for letting me vent and/or unfollowing me as I have many others to save the friendship. I want it noted that I have never, ever, used the terms Killary, Hellary, HilLIARy, DemocRATS or Libtards. I don’t … More And then there was one.
Dear Facebook friends, I was never political growing up, so I don’t know why I get so into it now. I naturally respond and react to things that are shouting “WTF” in my brain, even though I try not to use those actual words. Many of you may have those moments, on my side or the opposing … More Guess who’s coming to dinner?
Another crazy Huffington Post article, this one about the hashtag #AllLivesDidntMatter To quote the article: For every black person that declares his or her life matters, there are at least a dozen hurt white people shouting “all lives matter” at them instead of trying to understand why saying #BlackLivesMatter is necessary in the first place. This … More #SomeLivesDriveMeCrazy
Here’s why I can’t just do Twitter. I have too many words. I keep seeing things like “We were all illegal immigrants once, from the perspective of the Indians.” As though that’s supposed to shut people up over having fears and concerns. I’m supposed to immediately feel regret, remorse and compassion. Oh, you got me. … More Doomed to repeat
Mother’s Day. I missed it. I didn’t go see my mother on Mother’s Day because of my busy life of being a mother. I simply couldn’t didn’t make the time. I called, but there was no answer. Post Mother’s Day, first thing Monday morning, I and another straggler stood at the picked-over card section at the … More The Cards Don’t Lie
Originally posted on rhondastephens:
Summer 1974. I’m 9 years old. By 7:30 am, I’m up and out of the house, or if it’s Saturday I’m up and doing exactly what my father, Big Jerry, has told me to do. Might be raking, mowing, digging holes, or washing cars. Summer 2016. I’m tiptoeing out of the…