If sheep could read

I'm fairly private and tech savvy.  I keep all my Facebook options to Friends Only; I typically only accept friend requests from folks that I want to keep in my life, speak to regularly, and genuinely care about; I don't allow FB apps (anymore); and I don't fall for any of the virus posts, millionaire emails, or allow bank account access to anyone but my bank and another bank for wire trnasfers that I am initiating.  That being said, I am noticing how my privacy is really not private any longer.  SURPRISE!  Not.

Due to some recent business ventures I've accepted friend requests from folks that I normally would have declined, not because I'm a mean, heartless bitch, but because I really wanted Facebook to be the place where I kept in touch in this crazy world with friends and family ONLY.  I didn't want to friend co-workers past or present unless we were friends outside of the office or we have a commraderie that would extend outside if we had time; I didn't want to friend old school acquaintances whom I didn't really plan to stay connected or agree with their philosophies on life; I didn't expect to use Facebook as a marketing tool.  And Google+ really?  Not right now please.

I've ventured out into the world of dance instruction and have needed to market my business to attract people that may be interested in lessons, especially from an old friend.  I've also tapped my inner sales woman and been marketing Arbonne products to said expanded friend base.  I of course offer my discounts and freebies to these friends and families.  I am also slowly (but not forgotten) working on a project to open my own business in the ARTS.  These ventures have eroded that sense of security that I once had on Facebook.  I've friended one timers and friends of friends that I will most likely never speak to again...until the next party.  I've friended acquaintences to shamelessly market myself, my services and my goods.  I've friended all sorts of family because I love my family, but, then again, they now also have access to this blog, which is sometimes not a pleasant read.  I've allowed the ease of technology to creep into my personal space and blast to the world. 

I started this blog to help myself and others who have or may or are suffering post-partum.  I wanted people to read it so that they may better understand me or themselves.  I wanted the writer in me to re-emerge and spread the word.  The problem is that at times this blog became more of a journal than a public blog, and I found myself not wanting to Facebook blast that particular post, hoping that only my die-hards would actually peer into my soul.  Or that if one of my friends or family did see that "one" that they would take it for what it was and not "react". <-- and for you english friends, yes, I do prefer the British punctuation rules to our MLA.  LOL.

Yesterday I tried to use PayPal to pay for our dinner delivery online so that neither of us had to trek out in the sweltering heat if we didn't have to.  Well guess who did anyway?!  Let's try and make this short-ish, shall we?  Apparently, I have to a) give PayPal direct access to my bank account, or b) get their credit card, or c) pay a $4.95 convenience fee for the equivalent of a gift card in order to continue using their services.  Now mind you I've had PayPal since the days they were in their infancy, and well before the concept of "account verification" was conceived by their greedy leadership.  I rememeber the notices stating..."hey get verified, but it's optional!"  Now they tell me since I have cumulatively sent $2000 over 12 years, I now have to do a, b, or c in order to continue using their pay service.  WTF.  They have my debit card.  The equivalent of my bank account, not a regular credit card.  I should not be forced to give them my direct account information to be used as a wire transfer instead of a payment service.  If someone steals my card numbers it's easier to replace, but my bank account numbers?!  Come on!!!  You are not a bank or a retailer, you are a payment service!  You should not legally be allowed to force me into providing you my bank account information.  That makes you not much different than my favorite Nigerian Scam artists.  Even my bill payments and other banks don't force my direct bank access - I can use a credit card or debit card of my personal choice.  So now I can no longer purchase from Amazon, EBay, or several other of my regular vendors.  O well.  The reality is none of the corporations that have control of our broken economy really want it fixed, so I won't spend my money the way or where I am accustomed any longer.  Fuck You PayPal!  O, BTW...look into the 2004 Class Action suit against PayPal to understand more.  I guess I should have paid more attention to it back then.

So here I am blogging away.  A fairly harmless one today.  I have a lot on my mind, but I'm not in the frame to share my abyss at the moment.  So enjoy my worthless tirade on privacy and paypal in lieu of emotional meltdown.

Poison

What is the worst thing someone you care about can say to you; 6 inches from your face at the top of their lungs; something that feels the equivalent of being stabbed? Let me share: “I hate you. My family hates you. I don’t care.”

According to Merriam Webster the word hate is defined as:
noun
1. a. intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury
    b. extreme dislike or antipathy : loathing
2. an object of hatred
verb
1. to feel extreme enmity toward
2. to have a strong aversion to: find very distasteful
intransitive verb
1. to express or feel extreme enmity or active hostility

You can’t take back words. They resonate and bang around your brain at varying octaves and tones in waves. I’m sorry never erases the venom that stung. The poison will eat away until there is nothing left. You can kill a person with words.

Yes, sometimes being responsible sucks: it includes, putting your children and partner above all else, making some people unhappy with your decisions, and making sacrifices that are unpleasant. No one said that being responsible was easy or comfortable. But that’s what makes the world go around: responsibility and respect…it’s what makes us civilized.

Rant

I'm not really in the mood to write today, but I haven't been "in the mood" for a very long time.  Such is the story of my modern life in o too many ways.  I'm washed up and feeling quite old and worthless.  Being a mother is for the young, but society encouraged us to change our views on such nonesense and we became older mom: superbeing.  Bull shit.

Where does wife, friend, sister, daughter fit in or self for that matter.  One group of people says that you should work to teach our daughters to be strong women; another group says bring back the stay at home mom for our children's welfare and security; and yet another says daycares are best; and then still, stay at home dad's are just as good.  I don't knock anyones opinion, but I do knock people stepping in on my decisions for my family.

Don't question my authority, decision or ideas.  Do not go against my wishes and don't believe that your views are superior in any way.  My family is my family and I make decisions for its welfare and safety and comfort.  These decisions take careful consideration of working hours, finance levels, child care and discipline, home care and maintenance, travel options, available time and nourishment and most of all my ability to function to make it all happen.  I don't expect anyone to agree with me wholely, but respect that I am a smart, educated, common-sense filled female and don't tread on me or the family I have created.