between planets

Yup … still nothin’.

I want, I want, I want …

I want some ambition.

I want some inspiration.

I want to stop feeling so … ehhhh. Y’know?

I have nothing to bitch about, not really. I have so much to be grateful for. I am happy, really I AM.

I just WANT.

the break-up song

I was recently involved, either marginally or dead-bang in the middle, depending on how you look at it, with a litte Internet distastefulness.

It all began with this:

As a twitch, I posted it to a photographer’s Facebook feed and said that her work had “inspired” me.

Yes, it was snarky. Sue me.

As expected, the comment/image was deleted and I thought, that was that. The comment/image got some “likes”, I got a chuckle, no harm no foul.

The next day said photographer posted a photo that was so … okay I can’t even think of how to describe it. Even her own fans were bumfuckled: “it’s beautiful, but what is it.”

THAT image rubbed me the wrong way. See, I LIKE this photographer’s work. I’ve always thought it to be softly beautiful and sweet.

Just lately though, she’s started adding elements that done a bit differently might have fit more with the image she’s built for herself. Sadly, they look more like something a junior high schooler might have created with Piknik. In my opinion they detracted from the beauty of her talent.

When she posted the questionable shot – you know, the one that NO ONE COULD FIGURE OUT WHAT IT WAS – I twitched.

Again.

And posted THIS to her feed:

This is not talent. It’s not art.

It is a deliberate kick in the teeth to wherever you received your real talent from.

You are tossing CRAP onto the Internet’s collective walls and hoping it will stick. And yourloyal followers, those people who LOVE your REAL talent are following along behind and sucking it all up like good little minions.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself. To have been given a natural talent and making a travesty of it.

I have always admired your talent and your ability to create beauty. I have no idea what you’re doing now, but it’s my opinion that you’re twisting your God-given talent by pissing on everybody’s feet and calling it morning dew.

And of course, you delete any opposing or questioning opinion – dissenting opinions make it more difficult to make your loyal followers drink the Kool-Aid.

And that is MY opinion.

Of course, it was deleted. Her prerogative.

However, if you are going to post your art to the goddamn world, you better be prepared for the realization that not everyone is gonna love it.

Twitchy still, I posted it word for word to my own FB.

And thought that it was over. My FB following consists of my real life friends and family and the members of a board I belong to (hullo S’lores). Hardly the entire Internet.

Some jolly-talk was made on the board I belong to. The PRIVATE board where we go to say things that we don’t want others to see. Amongst ourselves, y’know?

Private like.

Someone who joined that board with the express purpose of spying on us copied these private conversations and showed them to the photographer in question.

I can imagine she was hurt. I would’ve been.

So, shame on the bitch that did the tattling. In a very real way SHE was the one who hurt the photographer by hiding and sneaking and carrying tales.

Yes, we said it. But we DIDN’T say it to her face nor did we shout it out publicly.

Because that would have been cruel and mean and catty.

Y’know, like the bitch who did the actual tale-carrying.

So … on and on it goes because after all we are women and this is what many of us do; what we HAVE done since grade-school.

We perpetuate and nurture the meanness between us.

Still ANOTHER photographer thought it her place to lecture the entire photography based Internet about the situation and remind us not to be mean to each other (in a nutshell)

She wrote, in part:

I may vent about it to my (mostly non-photographer) friends. I may even kvetch a little during one-on-one conversations with other photographers. I may try to quietly counteract it. But you will not find me, not ever, participating in a public bashing of a colleague.

Yeah, kinda what I did. Anything more that what I posted on FB was posted PRIVATELY.

Someone ELSE snuck around pretending to be someone they weren’t and passed on PRIVATE information that wasn’t meant to be seen in public. In effect they lied to get into a private forum, STOLE content and passed it along in order to hurt someone else.

If THAT person (who remains nameless because they are a coward) had kept their nose out of it no drama would have seen the light of day.

Here’s MY advice for the Internet: If you post your art (whether it’s writing or photography or taffy-pulling) to the web, there will be SOMEONE who doesn’t like it. There will be people who will express their opinion. If you love what you do, grow a thick skin and let ’em ride.

And Meg? Those people that are carrying tales to you that they got by sneaking around? Those are the people you need to watch out for. Cuz they will turn on you.

Count on it.

everything zen

I hate everybody and everything.

Oh, except for YOU, of course.

  • People are mean
  • I am old
  • My house is a mess
  • EVERYTHING FUCKING HURTS
  • I miss my husband

Yeah, I actually thought there would be more to that list, but there isn’t. Of course, the list is enough as it is.

People are really fucking mean. I belong to a lot of discussion boards (writing, web design, photography, etc).

A LOT

Some I’ve been on for YEARS. Some only a couple of months.

I know I could just stop participating on the ones that make me crazy, but I am learning some pretty cool things and I don’t want to give that up. Ditto on the boards where I have nothing in common with the majority of the members.

As in they are young, have little kids, are SAHMs, are well-to-do, are frisky and perky and cute, whereas I am old, fat, unattractive and poor. (Bitter, party of one!)

And many of those perky, young, pretty, well-to-do SAHM’s are MEAN. Seriously. Oh, not to each other, God forbid. The majority of their posts vis-à-vis (so to speak) are full of sunshine and light and great honking pats on the back. They praise each others’ work and their method of potty training. They commiserate on how tired their children make them and discuss … well, they discuss shit that I was too busy working my ass off to worry about when I had little kids.

Anyway – THEY piss me off.

There are also a bunch of them that make me laugh a lot and they’re kind and sweet – the kind of person I didn’t have time to be when I was young and poor and raising two little kids, so there’s that too.

But we’re discussing the shit that I hate and the fact that I am fucking CRABBY today, okay?

I am tired of being old and unattractive. Look, I am fully aware of the fact that I was never a beauty queen, but to put it in the words of one drunken idiot (who BTW, is no longer welcome on my property), I “used to be hot”. I have never been what you might call photogenic, but these days I’m pretty sure if you look up the word “crone” in the dictionary, my picture would be the illustration.

And I am not fishing for any kind of comment on that – seriously. I just want to get it OUT. Out into the fucking universe so I can let it GO.

So, I HATE being old. And fat.

I actually just looked around my house, and I lied. It ain’t that bad.

So THAT I don’t HATE THAT MUCH.

I am so-ooo-ooo OVER being in pain. Like every day of my life. Most days it’s minor, and given the fact that I am OLD, and knowing the shit a lot of other people go through, it’s minor. But there are days when everything hurts at once. When it feels like little animals with really sharp fucking teeth are chawing on my hipbones and my elbows and my wrists. Then there’s that thing where my right arm goes completely “pins and needles” – for DAYS at a time.

Yeah, THAT I really fucking HATE.

:: sigh ::

The husband thing.

Yeah.

He is the love of my life. We get along so well. He makes me laugh my tits off. He works so fucking hard. He tells me he loves me a dozen times a day. He puts up with so much SHIT from me (see all of the above).

We’re kind of slacking in the “married” part of our marriage.

And it’s killing me.