Stress | Cocktails With Hemingway

Hear ye, hear ye

11 Mar 2013 Leave a Comment

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Anxiety, Blogs, Cocktails With Hemingway, Crime, Drugs, Etc., Housing, Humor, Memphis, Stress, The South, Winning

Blogging serves as my outlet for self-expression. It’s cathartic, enabling me to vent, while also fulfilling my creative need. It’s something I truly enjoy doing regardless of how many people are paying attention. Even if I’m not discussing anything deep– especially if I’m not discussing anything deep– I rely on this blog to occupy my time in a productive manner. More often than not it’s a distraction, which I need. But I absolutely will not allow it to become a stressor. So if that means skipping a few days [or weeks], announcing things on my terms, omitting some things, beating a dead horse into the ground with other things, rambling nonsensically or being rendered speechless, controlling who can read certain entries, or anything else I can do as the Queen/Dictator/Divine Ruler/President of Cocktails With Hemingway….that’s my prerogative.

Malnourished, underweight, exhausted, stressed to the max, depressed, broken, feeling awkward because of the camera, and halfheartedly attempting a smile…this is me. Taken this morning at Marisha’s it is the most current picture I have.

So I’m going to jump into the March Blog Challenge on the current day instead of panicking that I’ll never catch up starting from the beginning. No deadlines bind me to optional, self-imposed projects that aren’t important. I’ll do it when I do it and if it doesn’t get done oh well. The same goes for my photo edits. Of course I respect your time– just look at what a stickler I am for punctuality. Being prompt and efficient is extremely important to me. However, I am doing you a favor, so please don’t pester me. Why should I work myself into a frenzy because I need a few more day? Do remember that I’m taking time I really don’t have to do something special for you. For free. We don’t have a contract and I’m not getting paid for my efforts. With that being said….if you want some of my creations [and are patient and respectful] don’t hesitate to ask. Like blogging, my foray into ‘visual arts’ is quite enjoyable. Just don’t send more than 5 photos at a time.

I made this for my parents. While Mom pursued graduate studies in Nashville, Dad manned artillery in Vietnam. These pictures come from the summer of ’69.

Now I’ll switch to some lighter fare.

People never cease to amaze me with their…puzzling…behaviors. Whether it’s a blatant disregard for the law or your own life, these two made me laugh out loud. The next logical step is their cohabitation. Not paying rent frees up considerably money for his ‘extracurricular activities’ thus ensuring he’s never sleeping and hypervigilant [not to mention aggressive, paranoid, erratic]. Who better to provide on site security for this foreign national and her authority complex? She’ll be warned before those pesky cops arrive with plenty of time to flee the scene. They’ll be luxe squatting all over the world.

One of my dear friends, a police officer, had an interesting night on the job.

There is nothing funny about congestive heart failure. There is nothing funny about drug addiction. It’s actually quite sad and disturbing. Paging Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, anyone?

‘Abka Re Bey’ a.k.a. Tabitha Gentry
Sovereign Citizen & Moorish National

Do you see any trace of remorse on this face? Of course not. Homegirl knows she got free rent and lots of attention. I would advise her to enjoy those 15 minutes now because I hear time passes slowly in prison….but she’ll never be incarcerated for any significant amount of time. She doesn’t acknowledge legal authority so jail won’t acknowledge her. That’s how it works, right? I’m a sovereign citizen of my own little planet. You cannot image how relieved I am to know that upon my return to Memphis I won’t have to worry about saving for a house. The first unoccupied home for sale that I stumble upon is mine for the taking and I won’t have to spend a dime!

[[SIDENOTE: Quite a few years of my youth were spent in this gorgeous home. One of my best friends and her family lived there. Abka Re Bey could not have picked a more stunning estate. Although I’m sure it looked much better with furniture, especially considering the flawless decor I observed during my time on 600 Shady Grove.

Jamie Jeanette Craft

I’ve never been arrested. But by God, if the law must take me…..let them take me pantless and ‘fleeing the scene’ in a battery operated Power Wheels truck.

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,
Sloane

First Birthday Parties

03 Mar 2013 Leave a Comment

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Adam, Anger, California, Child 'Protective' Services - CPS, Family, Frustration, Gestapo, Heartbreak, Homesick, Injustice, Love, Motherhood, Outrage, Parenting, Sibling love, Stress, Tatum, Unconventional Parenting, Upset

Time flies. Where has this past year gone? I feel as though I barely know my daughter. My son has never met his sister. Child ‘Welfare’ Services in San Luis Obispo County failed my children on such a colossal scale. They restricted my parental access, forcibly separated our family, and attempted to drive a wedge between Adam and me. And they failed miserably. Our bond transcends all. Tatum will meet her brother. These obstacles strengthen the unbreakable connection of our family. With time we will heal.

Nothing makes me happier than seeing that beautiful smile. Her laughter and excitement reminds me daily that I made the right– the only– decision. I sacrificed one child to save another.

Even sharing pictures of Tatum’s first birthday party can’t happen without a bitter taste in my mouth. At least she enjoyed her cake.

A photo summary of first birthdays:

Since we’ve been in California….
Tatum was born. Adam’s fourth birthday came and went. I turned 27. Maris and Theresa threw Tatum a party to celebrate her first year of life. In a few weeks Adam turns five. All milestones during which we were separated when we should have been together.

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,
Sloane

Dread

24 Jan 2013 Leave a Comment

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Adam, Anxiety, California, Child 'Protective' Services - CPS, Court, Heartbreak, Legal issues, Motherhood, Politics, Stress, Unconventional Parenting, Upset

How can you look at these faces and not smile?

Tomorrow marks my first appearance in Family Court since the spring of last year. CWS presents their final recommendation for Adam’s custody and placement. Your prayers and support make all the difference.

Let my children and their best interests prevail….bring Adam home.

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,
Sloane

Only a few more hours…

21 Feb 2012 1 Comment

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Adam, Anger, Anxiety, Changes, Depression, Family, Frustration, Gestapo, Injustice, Motherhood, Parenting, Pregnancy, Serenity, Sibling love, Stress, Support, The Wee One, Three F's, YouTube

Posing by the azaleas in our driveway - Easter '09

My chauffeur will arrive in two and a half hours to take me to the hospital. I’ve been up for over an hour now. The realization that I wouldn’t be able fall asleep again frustrated me….until it became apparent just how much I needed this quiet time for myself. Tears stream down my face as I write this and I’m allowing myself to cry. This little slice of early morning is my mourning before I have to pull myself together. Soon enough I have to focus only on the joyous mother role and step outside like absolutely nothing is wrong.

Except something is very wrong.

I should be introducing Adam to his sister at the hospital, not staring at the photo shrine I’m bringing with me in his absence. What a terrible choice to be faced with: do I ‘sacrifice’ one child to save another? Towards the end of January I knew I had no other option. Being commended on my progress told that my son would come home before his sister’s arrival….only to have that light snuffed out so cruelly….jolted me back to reality. As my attorney [and virtually everyone else with common sense] said, the net was being widened for Tatum, plain and simple. My daughter will not be placed in harm’s way nor will she ever be a victim of this grotesque system– she is protected. But soon enough I shall resume the uphill battle in dangerous territory to fight for Adam. I’m bawling now at the thought of how both of my children’s lives have been so severely impacted.

I pray that God is merciful and ends this nightmare before Tatum remembers much of it.

Adam and Gigi at Wilson's first birthday party, 1/10

Right before his bedtime last night Adam gave me a call to inquire about the big news Auntie spoke of earlier in the evening. His kind, gentle soul is so understanding. He knows that Tatum has to be born in a ‘special baby hospital’ so she will be safe and happy. God only knows what’s going through his overburdened head, but he assures me that he wants the best for sister. I reminded him that his sister would be born tomorrow. To which he said: “Whoa! Where does she come from?” In the past I told him babies fly out of a Mommy’s belly button [Although I believe in being as honest as possible with children at an age-appropriate level, he repeats everything, and I wasn't ready with a dazzling answer] so that’s what I said. “How does that work?” he asked, skeptically. When I told him my belly button opens up and out comes sister flying really fast he cackled like a maniac. “That’s really funny,” he said. “Flying sister.” Hearing him tell me that he loved me ‘with all his heart,’ that he missed me, and that he was ‘super excited’ to be a big brother….

Adam, I know you sometimes look at this blog to see the pictures. I hope that when you view the images here you remember how many people love you. Things have been so terrible for your little self these past few months and there is so little you understand. Please remember that there are people fighting for you around the clock. Remember where you come from, the wonderful childhood you’ve had, your family near and far. It will take tremendous effort but we will get things back to a state of normalcy for you. That I promise.

I love you, sweet boy. My heart breaks knowing you can’t be with me today. It makes me so angry and sad to think of how we’ve been robbed. When you get home from school you’ll be able to ‘meet’ your precious little sister….on Mommy’s YouTube account.

Somebody has an awesome GRRR face.

From the very beginning of this ordeal, I refused to pity myself. The emotional roller coaster I felt was something I tried to translate into the toll this was taking on Adam, my pregnancy, and the future of our family….and even then I tried to channel that negativity into something productive. Yet for the first time several days ago I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any rest for the weary.

My caseworker informed me that my presence was required at a newly– magically!– scheduled hearing taking place tomorrow. What can you do but laugh? Out of the kindness of their hearts I’m being allowed to phone in as opposed to actually appear. It goes without saying that the topic of this hearing is nothing that has to be discussed tomorrow nor is it anything that a signed letter faxed on my behalf can’t solve. But that would just be too easy to let me give birth in peace. So I eagerly anticipate having my cell phone ring in the hospital sometime tomorrow afternoon between 1:30-3:00 Pacific Standard Time. I’m so glad we clarified that– California’s scheduling as opposed to the local time here in Bora Bora where I’m enjoying my leisurely vacation.

Nobody will rain on my parade. It’s mind over matter. I’ve made the conscious decision not to let anything affect me today– I don’t mind– and nothing else matters. My focus today is bringing Tatum into this world.

Tatum arrives TODAY!! <3

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,

Sloane

Yucky day

13 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Depression, Frustration, Stress

Season 4 can hit Netflix any day now.

UPDATE: Brandi informed me that it was Lincoln’s birthday. Didn’t they consolidate all those into President’s Day, later in the month? Apparently SLO County seems to be the only one observing this as I asked friends across the nation if their schools, banks, offices, etc. were closed and they all said no.

Is today some sort of holiday completely unbeknownst to me? Early this morning I began making my calls to the Atascadero Department of Social Services. I thought they opened at 8 am, yet nobody answered after making several calls. So I waited an hour to no avail. The strangest thing was that the usual automated recording wasn’t playing. After it rang enough there was a busy signal as opposed to the usual voicemail. Despite the fact that this is a number I call frequently I checked online just to make sure it changed. It hadn’t. I attempted to call from my land line to make sure it wasn’t a cell problem. It wasn’t. As a last resort I even called my mom and gave her the number and she got the busy tone as well.

Starting to get irritated, I called the Paso Robles office. The exact same thing happened. It happened again when I called in San Luis Obispo. And again in Arroyo Grande and Nipomo. Surely things would be different after my morning nap! Wishful thinking– come 3pm I’ve finally give up on speaking with a live person, decided to jump through a lot of internet hoops to find a fax number, and sent off a handwritten message via fax to my social worker. Nobody was available to take me there until after 5 or I would have just showed up….but regardless. My materials got sent.

Depression, stress, and frustration is really taking a toll on me. Don’t get too excited– I’m still competent and functional!– but I’m more ready to meet my daughter. The combination of excess time on my hands [which means I'm constantly researching legal stuff] and trying to determine what hospitals in the area other than Twin Cities will take me [apparently none] is overwhelming. I can’t wait for today to be over. Tomorrow’s a new day.

8 days until Tatum’s arrival. <3

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,

Sloane

Defeated

16 Jan 2012 2 Comments

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Frustration, Injustice, Legal issues, Maternity Leave, Outrage, Pregnancy, Stress, Upset

….but not going down without one hell of a fight.

This look will be permanently etched on my face until the birth of my daughter. Taken jokingly as an 'emo' shot several years ago it is now my default expression.

Nobody actually told me that but with the devastating news I received today they may as well have. It’s a never ending cycle. The phrase ‘why me’ is not in my vocabulary but I cannot help but wonder the purpose of all these tests and countless obstacles. I clear one hurdle only to encounter three more….and they all multiply exponentially.

It should come as no surprise that I’m not uttering a word. In fact, I don’t even know if I can bring myself to blog until the end of January. I would say until Tatum’s birth but I’m sure I’ll be bored to tears because:

My doctor wants me on bed rest for the last month of my pregnancy.

I’m at an increased risk for a pulmonary embolism [I didn't even ask what led her to that conclusion because I didn't want to have a heart attack and a pulmonary embolism in the office] and my blood pressure’s high. That combined with all of my stress and anxiety issues moves my pregnancy into high risk category. While I know that bed rest is the best thing for my health– and hopefully I can use that time to hammer out some paid freelancing– missing work upsets me greatly. I planned to work until the week before my Monday admission to the hospital. Now my paid maternity leave won’t cover much past my bed rest, sigh. I won’t complain though. At least I have a job waiting on me upon my return and weeks of time to be spent with my precious daughter.

Thankfully I can leave work knowing that I will have completed the end of year closeouts and my pet project– creating a computer database for a large amount of files and records that were previously paper only. I would hate to have to leave behind any unfinished business for my substitute. She’s the woman who trained me so I can rest assured that the office is being left in capable, familiar hands.

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,

Sloane

Bye bye, Feedjit. Hello, stress.

03 Jan 2012 1 Comment

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Cocktails With Hemingway, Court, Legal issues, Maternity Leave, Obsession [bad], OCD, Pet Peeves, Relaxation, Stress

Who knew geriatrics were were such a hot commodity on the black market?

Considering how my blog rarely changes in terms of design [once in a blue moon I'll try and new layout or add a photo on the side], I doubt most people are scrutinizing what appears on the main page. If you aren’t one of those conscientious sleuths then you probably didn’t notice I removed my Feedjit [location tracker]. The problems far outweighed the benefits. First and foremost, some locations simply did not show up and I knew they were visiting. Do you know what that does to my OCD?! Next, I didn’t like the limited availability of the archive features. Then, it made me paranoid because I was completely convinced that the IP address that visits from Memphis 39453954039535945394543593454353 times an hour was Stalker Boy. Finally, I never understood why I got certain information from some visitors but not others. So I simply did away with it all. Numbers are more interesting to me than geographic locations for the purposes of Cocktails With Hemingway– though I certainly always encourage you to say hello and introduce yourself, especially if you are an international fan.

My maternity leave begins on February 16th. I get four weeks of paid l time and up to eight weeks additional, unpaid. Of course I look forward to cherishing the first few weeks of my daughter’s life with her at home….but the idea of not going to work for three months is enough to drive me insane. And besides, Easter falls on April 8th this year. Christmas and Easter are crucial times for the growth and outreach of our church and it’s of the utmost importance to me that I’m there to help during those chaotic yet exhilarating periods. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could get a paycheck for motherhood all the time though, whether or not you were employed outside of the home?

I can’t even think about tomorrow. My stomach’s in knots and I’m a nervous wreck, though I’ve done a fairly good job of keeping a smile on my face and going about ‘business as usual’ [at least on the surface]. Unlike the initial phases of this ordeal there is no preparation involved. False allegations were refuted with verifiable proof, countless character references were assembled [I'll never be able to thank you all enough], and I made a list of my grievances. Those things were completed long ago. Beyond that, what can I do? The prospect of being ‘cross examined’ doesn’t phase me. Why should it when I’m being completely truthful, have nothing to hide, and diligently followed all that was requested? Above all I’m drained and ready for this to be OVER.

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,

Sloane

Terrible Awful: 2011 edition

31 Dec 2011 2 Comments

by Cocktails With Hemingway in * R. i. P. *, Anger, Court, Dating, Divorce, Domestic Violence, Fear, Frustration, Grumpy old Sloane, Health, Holidays, Home Sweet Home, Homesick, Housing, Injustice, Legal issues, Memphis, No bueno, NYE, Outrage, Parenting, Pet Peeves, Relationships, Sickness, Single mama, Stress

No word exists in the English language to quantify how abominable, appalling, atrocious, bad, calamitous, deplorable, deplorable, dreadful, horrible, intolerable, miserable, repulsive, tragic, unbearable, and wretched year 2011 was for me. Combine every adjective you just read and multiply it by a million. That’s my year! We’ll steal Minnie Jackson’s terminology and refer to it as the ‘Terrible Awful.’

Temporary catharsis is all I seek. Factors beyond my control dictate the terms for certain grievances….and I have no choice other than to carry them with me into the new year. Obviously there is a massive Terrible Awful that makes all others pale in comparison– and some of these seem more innocuous than others– but this is my time to complain.

Minnie's done somethin' Terrible Awful!

So let’s knockout my woeful [and oftentimes incensed] lamentations as quickly as possible. Without further ado, 11 things I despised about 2011:

1) Sloane versus Child ‘Welfare’ Services. I’m not even going to dignify them with three sentences so we’ll end here at two.

2) Never in my life do I want to make another appearance in a courtroom in the county of San Luis Obispo. Much to my chagrin I can think of at least two more dates where I’ll be scheduled to appear. Whether it’s custody issues, my divorce, or testifying in another case the legal process drags on ad infinitum. This is neither the time nor the place for me to discuss why I’m a VIP in the courts here, but I wanted to take this opportunity to assure you that I’m not a criminal– my little wrists have never felt the cold metal of handcuffs!– nor have I been charged with anything. I’m a law abiding citizen who has done nothing wrong, though as you can imagine from the categories I mentioned above this is seemingly endless red tape.

3) My marriage came to a screeching halt. While I’m not divorced [see #4], it’s completely over, and that upsets me tremendously. Will and I were estranged for over three years of our marriage so I’m used to him not being in the picture. Yet I was [naive and foolish] so hopeful that our daughter could allow us to have a fresh start….for a very intelligent woman isn’t that a stupid thought? And it’s not myself I worry about– I’m fiercely independent and prefer being unattached– but my children. They deserve a loving and attentive father who provides for them, a father who treats their mother with courtesy and respect even though they are no longer involved. I want to be able to co-parent and have a dear friend in my former spouse. Given the circumstances that simply can’t happen. We’ll never be a Bruce and Demi. The union of Sloane and Will didn’t just succumb to ‘irreconcilable differences’ or fizzle and fade. How do I explain this to the kids? “Sorry Adam, Daddy can’t come with you to Father/Son day at school because it violates the terms of the restraining order.”

4) Residency requirements are not my friend in the state of California. Until the marriage is dissolved on paper, any custody issues are infinitely more complex, as is anything that pertains to domestic violence. I want to give birth to Tatum and come to our cozy apartment to recuperate and spend quality time with my children. My biggest concern should be separation anxiety from my infant when I return to work, not dealing with a divorce. Because as luck would have it– of course!– I don’t exist on paper in the state of California until one day before Tatum’s arrival.

14 month old Adam in the CAR wearing his cow suit. I sure do miss my CAR. Having a CAR is a very nice thing.

5) Being homeless– can we say major no bueno? Granted, I was never on the streets panhandling and sleeping on cardboard…but there was a period of two and a half weeks where Adam and I lived in a motel. I cannot even begin to describe to you how agonizing and stressful it is to not know where you are going to sleep past the next few nights, especially when you have a child. The ‘transient’ time between my unexpected departure from the women’s shelter and my joyous arrival in my apartment was brutal. And the troubles hadn’t even started!

6) Would you be surprised if I told you I was unbelievably homesick? Between a period of not having a home– literally– and being 3000 miles away from the place I’ve known as home for the first quarter century of my life. The overwhelming majority of the amazing people I call friends are east of the Mississippi River clustered around the Hernando DeSoto Bridge [a.k.a. the new bridge]. I even miss Memphis. Around here all the financial establishments sound so….corporate. How could I possibly trust anyone with my personal accounting that doesn’t work for Mo’ Money Taxes?

7) This is quite difficult to discuss but once upon a time I had a car. Not just any car, a gorgeous BMW X3 in a dazzling silver color. It was glorious. Beyond glorious. When I drove alone the speedometer went to 345943945435943 in no time at all. When driving with Adam I trusted my safe and reliable vehicle. Sometime during the hour where Alyssa and I were getting acupuncture in our ears [trying valiantly to cleanse ourselves of bad juju and stress less, unbeknownst to me, my car met its untimely demise while it was a certain someone's DUI chariot.

[[ Sidenote: When I took this picture I moved his car seat strap down so he would smile. It's clearly not secure and that's not how he rode while we were actually moving in the vehicle. You can never be too cautious with clarifying these things. ]]

8) Sloane, meet poverty. There is nobody to blame for this except yours truly but I had zero savings when I needed it the most. Even cheap motels get costly. Come apartment time, I had to furnish it [though I received tons of generous gifts for which I am so thankful], and then they wanted rent again after already getting the first month and a security deposit?! Then came the introductory bills for various places. And Christmas. Blah, blah, blah.

Absolutely no relevance to this post, but it's a cool picture

9) This was a lousy, sickly year for my health. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritiually, I was simply not healthy– which understandably took its toll. I should have known what to expect when I went for a ‘wellness checkup’ the second week of January….and slipped on a patch of ice dislocating my knee, almost tearing my MCL, and getting a swollen and inflamed meniscus. Well then.

10) What the hell was I thinking when it came to dating?! My first ex of the year I wish nothing but the best for….it simply ran its course. We were both reluctant to jump ship and it should have ended a lot sooner. I thank him for handling it like a gentleman and having the courtesy and respect to not talk poorly of me, just as I do for him. Next one of my very best friends and I tried our luck at being a couple for two weeks: epic fail. Then there was….I’m scared if even mention it in too much detail I’ll hear a knock at my patio door and he’ll be outside with an ax despite the fact that he’s thousands of miles away. He’s said it himself he’ll “never stop harassing me.” Suffice it to say he’s a deranged stalker who is profoundly disturbing and highly unstable. And finally there was that attempted reconciliation with Will. That certainly ended well!

11) People. Behaving. Badly.

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,

Sloane

Stressed scrooge

24 Dec 2011 1 Comment

by Cocktails With Hemingway in Facebook, Grumpy old Sloane, Holidays, Obsession [bad], Pet Peeves, Stress

This is the second Christmas I've been pregnant but the first away from home.

Expect to see at least three entries over the next two days about the joy of the holiday season….so it makes perfect sense to get in touch with my inner scrooge before the festivities commence. So what if I’m a miser, a misanthrope, an all-around meanie who deserves a lump of coal in my stocking? If I didn’t have children it’d be enough to make me want to adorn my spiked egg nog with a hearty helping of Prozac and hibernate.

But alas, I am a Mommy, so I’ll stick to my yearly cynical blog post….and cherish the rest of my holidays creating memorable traditions with my family and celebrating our blessings.

I’ll spare you all the ranting and raving pertaining to excessive crowds; Christmas music [like everyone else who has worked for a mass retailer at some point in their lives I despise it and want nothing more than to run screaming for the hills when I hear the first few notes of "Santa Baby"]; psychotic and aggressive parents pepper spraying less zealous parents for toys; rampant materialism; feeling obligated to give drunken transients my spare change in the spirit of being ‘merry;’ an endless circuit of holiday parties; struggling with artificial trees and cumbersome decorations; those who magically succumb to religious fervor December 24-25th; and a host of other seasonally specific delights.

Nope, this vent session isn’t about any of those things. Instead we’ll be focusing on that horrendous monster sucking the soul out of me– which just so happens to be infinitely worse around Christmas– my constant companion I call STRESS. And to think: this isn’t even the stress that is a direct result of my unfortunate present circumstance! We’ll collectively refer to these as the ‘other’ categories of the S-word.

Want to know a major source of my stress? I’m glad you answered affirmatively because I was going to tell you regardless. Facebook. That stupid social network is the bane of my existence. Getting rid of my account seems to be the next logical step….but I’m reluctant to sever such an important digital tie with people I wouldn’t be communicating with otherwise. Nor do I want to get rid of all those pictures. What to do, what to do. Drastically decrease my usage? Sadly enough if it’s there I get suckered into the abyss. My ‘deactivation’ proved successful– I wasn’t chomping at the bit to return– yet I felt a surge of panic when I had updates for the masses and no place to post them. If only everyone on Facebook actively followed this blog….

I’m not losing any sleep over the “to Facebook or not to Facebook” debate, that was just a preface to why I think it’s so damn annoying. Recently I started the initial phase of a massive ‘friend’ purge. Over 100 names were gone within minutes– and many more to come. It was so liberating! I’m at a complete loss for how I acquired 1000+ ‘friends’ [especially considering I deny requests from those I don't know personally] but who are those people?! If I don’t know you, we rarely speak, or you were on my list because of somebody who is no longer in my life = gone. If you’re a chronic complainer who takes zero action to rectify your circumstance[s], constantly glorifying your partying, or too overbearing = gone. If you’re traveling a road that is counterproductive to where I am in my life or somebody who is more trouble than they’re worth = gone. If you’re a stressor and responsible for one of my numerous “REALLY?!” moments = gone. If you’re a drama queen = gone. If you continuously disrespect my space = gone.

At least I'm not the only one who looks a little less than enthused when I see Santa.

Some of you can attest to the fact that I don’t discriminate with my trigger happy delete finger. Even my own mother and some of my closest friends aren’t on my Facebook page. I refuse to apologize for this. Ask yourself which of the aforementioned bold statements pertains to you– there’s your answer– and don’t say you weren’t sufficiently warned. Finding yourself relegated to outside the Facebook circle of trust [I say that in a tone tripping with sarcasm] is not the end of the world. You will survive. I’m not going to end a friendship over internet behavior but I will not hesitate to nip an online problem in the online bud and move on with my offline life. Watching otherwise intelligent, mature, and rational people panic over something so inconsequential– and take it way too personally– is both amusing and sad.

Three more Facebook complaints conclude my spiel: the block list, boys behaving badly, and name dropping. My block list is extensive. I take no chances with unwanted interlopers. However, I get a kick out of removing people from it every so often….it’s disturbing the number of former blockees who contact me within 24 hours. Do they just sit around waiting, hoping, praying that they’ll receive another chance to be in my good graces? Because I am so quick to eliminate people without a second thought, I regard the other end of that spectrum– those with stalker-ish tendencies– with a sort of morbid curiosity. I should really stop doing that because it transitions from funny to creepy in approximately 2.5 seconds.

Boys behaving badly. What can I say about this revolting bunch? Nothing warms my heart and quite like seeing all these holiday posts from guys extolling the virtues of their [completely oblivious] significant other….and knowing that they are far from Mr. Faithful. Bonus points if these losers have children with said significant other. It’s only a matter of time before you make a mistake and expose yourselves. Actually, I should amend that to people behaving badly. Just as many females do it too yet I see it more from the wayward gentlemen so that’s the first gender that comes to my mind.

I'll miss the annual Christmas trip to Mulligan's.

Nothing grates my nerves more than being name dropped by homeboys. I do not have a monopoly on my friends nor do you need my permission to contact one of them. But if you are going to say “I’m Sloane’s friend…” and proceed to be disgusting, a total creeper, or unrelenting in your pursuit– thanks in advance for the mortification and making me look bad. Keep my name out of your mouth with that one.

While we’re on the topic of dudes, I don’t know what planet on which most of them reside. How can anyone in their right mind think that while I am in the middle of the most important– and extremely messy– legal battle of my life I’m interested in romance? Newsflash: I’m not. Not only do I find it inappropriate and tacky given the timing but it’s also quite insulting. To think that I’d be interested in flirtation or whatever brief dalliance your dreaming of shows just how little you know me. Feeding me ridiculous lines, calling me ‘hot’ or ‘sexy’ [either of those two automatically disqualifies you from ever being a blip on my radar], or trying to convince me why you’re so spectacular is a waste of your time. Nobody I’d ever be interested in does any of those things. And it’s completely irrelevant what interests me in a man because men won’t be interesting to me for a very long time.

In conclusion, what you’ve read here creates negative feelings. Negative feelings lead to anxiety. Anxiety leads to stress. If you are a person who stresses me– regardless of how close we are or your role in my life or even if you had the best of intentions– you’ll be removed from my Facebook, your calls and texts ignored, emails unread, and I’ll pretend that you don’t exist until things are calmer. It’s not callous. I’m being proactive about my health and attempting to stay sane, you can’t fault me for that.

Merry Christmas!!

With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,

Sloane

Cocktails With Hemingway

Hear ye, hear ye

First Birthday Parties

Dread

Only a few more hours…

Yucky day

Defeated

Bye bye, Feedjit. Hello, stress.

Terrible Awful: 2011 edition

Stressed scrooge

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