Of all my journeys online, it has been in the Second Life and Plurk community that I have felt the most different than everyone else. I never find my opinion to be the popular one. I never seem to 100% agree with most of what is said about a situation. Sure, we all agree on certain points, but only a few people and I see exactly eye to eye. Though, to me, that’s the beauty of Plurk. A situation can happen and you can see multiple views all at once, or in my case 214 different views. Taken into account the number of my plurk “friends” that are inactive, I’d say more like 125 different views. Each view may be slightly different, but in my opinion, when a situation such as someone being accused of being someone else occurs on plurk, most people fall into one of the major categories listed below:
You have done something. You’ve either lied or upset someone in some way that makes them think you lied. Perhaps you just performed differently than they expected and you were labeled unjustly or perhaps you are actually a liar and spend your free time trying to make others miserable. No one will ever really know for sure except you, unless you confess to someone. If you do confess to someone, most likely they will not keep your secret forever. If you don’t confess and you never admit, then you could trip yourself up by getting close to someone else and providing conflicting details. Being a liar and being close to multiple people is very hard to maintain over a long period of time even online. People will begin to get suspicious the closer they get. Once their suspicions, whether true or false, arise, you really only have four options:
- Provide proof their accusations are false. Know that some accusers will never be satisfied, but it will at least help make the people who feel they were injured by your deception feel better, if the proof is valid.
- Ignore it and hope it all goes away. You’ll still have some supporters and new people may be swayed by your charm in the future. Just remember that these accusations, if not completely unproven, will eventually surface again.
- Confess. Beg forgiveness. This may or may not work. Most likely will end with the same results as #2.
- Reinvent yourself and start all over again. This will serve as confirmation that the accusations are true, but you won’t have to face them. Usually after a few months, years, the same issues may come find you on a new account if your lies continue.
The accuser(s) is the person or persons that make the accusations public and most likely are also an injured party. They sometimes provide proof or speak of having proof. The reputation of the accuser and their closeness to the accused will determine if the accusations are believed or not. Sometimes the person is outing the accused for the good of the community or sometimes for their own benefit. Though, the intent is usually fairly obvious. If the accuser has nothing to gain from the accusations, then most likely their intentions are genuine. Usually the only thing the accuser or accusers have to gain is the blackballing of the accused. If the accused being a social pariah does not in any way benefit them, then most likely the outing is sincere.
“The Injured Party(ies)”
This group, whether small or large, are the ones that feel betrayed, deceived or hurt, whether real or imagined. They believe they have been the receiver of lies. Perhaps the secrets they whispered only to you have spread far and wide in the community. The accused may have played a part in attempting to destroy their “relationship”, etc. Some of the parties in this group may have an actual claim for damages against the accused’s trollish ways, or others may claim that if a person was not truly the way they inferred they were, then they are owed damages. Either way, the people in this group will want to share their story about how they were injured and/or always suspected the accused of being a lying snake in the grass. Whether involved first hand or not, real or imagined injured parties will speak of the devastation for years to come. These stories will especially be told and retold when the next accusation occurs.
“Supporters of the Accused”
No matter what information is presented or not presented, this group will always support the accused. Perhaps “the accused has always been nice to them” or they don’t really care what’s been done or who has been hurt because all of their interactions with them have been polite and above board. Usually, they don’t know the accuser that well or the accused didn’t have a reason to deceive them, so they have not been hurt in the situation. Whatever the case may be, for sickness or in health, they have the accused’s back.
“The Unaware and Just Don’t Care”
There are those that know nothing about what is happening and do not care to know. They are all wrapped up in work, reading Reddit, sexting coworkers, recovering from the holidays, etc., and are much too “busy” to be concerned with an outing of an alt.
“The Unaware and Always Out of the Loop”
This is the group of people that never know exactly what is going on, but are always curious because they are usually bored or want to see if it concerns them. Usually you can spot them easily, because they are always saying something “not seeing the drama on their timeline” or “asking what’s going on”. They usually get informed via a private plurk, realize that the reason they didn’t know in the first place is because it didn’t apply to them and move on with their life. No harm. No foul.
Here’s the thing, we at all at one point or another in our online world stand to be in one of the groups mentioned above. No matter where we fall in this situation, I believe everyone, including the accused, deserves an opportunity to be heard and respected. Whether you decide to believe the accusers or the accused does not give you a right to bash anyone that choses to believe differently.
I respect someone’s right to hide behind a persona, but I also respect someone’s right to demand honesty in their dealings with people online. You can be whoever you want to be on my plurk line. I don’t expect honesty in your public plurks, though I would like to believe that it exists.
It’s a person’s right to say when they draw the line with their expectations of honesty with someone. If you talk privately with someone about real life issues and your relationship is based on the private conversations that you share, then of course, if they find out or suspect that the entire basis of your friendship could possibly be a lie, they have a right to be hurt.
Sometimes what is so often referred to as drama online is actually just life, good or bad. No matter what category you fall into in this situation or one that may happen in the future, perhaps knowing we are all one step away from being an injured party, an accused or an apathetic bystander may help us treat the others involved with sympathy and respect.
Lately nothing makes sense. Normally when I encounter an oddity or something that tweaks my internal monitor, I research and dig until I figure it out or get bored of trying, but for the last several months, I’ve tried to just let things go. When I searched for solutions to unanswered questions or tried to discover the hidden motivations of others, it never brought happiness. Sure, it stopped the itch at the moment, but then something else would come up that also needed scratching. But now, I’ve let things go so much that I think I’m too full. Too full of questions. Too full of odd coincidences. I’m not being able to concentrate and my memory is failing me.
Take yesterday for example, it was odd, so odd, but I tried to take it at face value. Sometimes nights are odd. Sometimes people act out of character. Sometimes there’s not always a reason. Things just are. People just do. Odd remains odd. But today, hours later, I’m still back at last night. The tasks I’ve completed today have only held about 70% of my attention as the other 30% is running on autopilot trying to crack the code of odd.
People are strange.
Five People Who Mean a Lot
I took a long break between day five and day six, a very long break. One reason for that break is my attention span when it comes to online things such as blogging, plurking, etc. is fleeting. The internet is my vast playground, and I flit around from topic to topic at whim. Another reason is that I find this topic very boring. I think the people who mean a lot to me are pretty damn obvious. They are in no particular order:
I mean it’s my real life family, and I think anyone that knows me in both lives can see that. I could go into huge detail about each one, but to the people that read this blog, I mean skim this blog and look at the pictures, none of those details will matter.
So instead I present to you five people that I googled over the last few weeks instead of writing this blog post:
1. Alex Clare
Okay, yes I admit I didn’t really know who Alex Clare was until that IE9 commercial, but damn that boy can sing. He just seduces me with his voice and his lyrics. I have a huge crush on him now.
I found his acoustic version of Hummingbird and listened to it about 20 times back to back. (Yes, Joel yelled at me.)
Listen to this and tell me you don’t love him. http://video.uk.msn.com/watch/video/alex-clare-hummingbird-live/2tvnwlxg
Oh btw, I’m claiming him for now until my attention gets caught by someone else.
2. Alfred Hitchcock
When I found out Joel hadn’t watched any Hitchcock except Psycho, we remedied that quickly with a Hitchcock night. In fact, I think I wrote my last post the day we were going to do our marathon. I was prompted to want to rewatch a few of his movies after reading an article with Tippi Hedren in which she discusses Hitchcock’s obsession with his blondes, her and Kim Novak. There’s actually an HBO movie coming up about it, I think. In the article, Hedren refers to Hitchcock as “a genius, evil and a deviant”. He would be on my dinner party list for sure.
3. Lolo Jones
Is she really a virgin? Seriously? Does the fact that she mentioned she was a virgin overshadow her accomplishments. I’m not really sure, but I know that’s what I focused on when I read up on her.
4. Amy Sohn
I’ve read Amy’s articles before in Salon, but I stumbled on this excerpt from her recent book Motherland after reading an article wondering if some of it could be fiction. The book deals with the regression of 40 year old women, mothers and wives, who return to staying out late, drinking too much, doing drugs, sleeping around while their husbands stay home, take care of the kids and play video games.
I’d say that’s probably pretty much true. Sure, she may have sensationalized it a little bit, but overall, I’d say I see the same trends where I live and honestly to some extent in SL.
Read the article. http://www.theawl.com/2012/07/the-40-year-old-reversion What do you think? Truth or Fiction or a combination of the two?
5. Alexa Vega
When did the Spy Kids girl get so damn hot? I’d do her.
As you can tell, I spend a lot of time just reading random articles about people who really don’t matter, but it’s a life, and I call it mine.
Six Things You Wish You’d Never Done
It’s a Friday afternoon, an hour before I leave work for the weekend. Joel and I have plans to watch Hitchcock movies and eat sushi tonight. At this point in my day, there aren’t a lot of regrets that come to mind, instead you get five things I wish I’d never done, and one important thing I wish I had.
1. I wish I had not gotten into the slow line at the theatre concession. It seemed like a good decision at the time, but I had no idea that the cashier would be quite so slow, or that the woman in front of me would be ordering for an entire Girl Scout troop, or so it seemed after she kept adding items on a whim. I kept looking at my phone, seeing the minutes tick away, as the start time of the movie grew near. “There’s always at least 15 minutes of previews”, my friend cautioned as she could see my agitation increase. Sure, I know there’s 15 minutes of previews, but I like previews, and I like being in my seat early. So, definitely getting in that slow line at the theatre is something I wish I’d never done!
2. I wish I had never stopped at Velvet Cream in Hernando, Mississippi. Sure, I like mom and pop joints. I always try to find a unique, recommended by locals, spot whenever we travel, and the name Velvet Cream made me smile. I ordered the buffalo chicken sandwich, and though it tasted okay at the time, I grew to regret it on the second leg of our journey the next morning. By the emergency room visit that evening, I really hated that Velvet Cream place. Fucking food poisoning, sure wish I hadn’t made that stop at the Velvet Cream.
3. I wish I had never listened to my mom and cut my long, red hair short and had a perm 2 weeks before my 8th grade graduation. Sure, I wanted a new look. It was a big deal. I was giving the State of the Class during graduation, and I wanted to look older and “hot”. Goodbye little girl long hair and hello cool new short haircut. Instead, my mom got involved, and it turned me into a “Little Orphan Annie” look-alike. Thank goodness there were only two weeks of school left before summer, because if I had to endure one more hallway rendition of “The Sun’ll Come Out Tomorrow”, I’d probably have seriously considered violence.
4. I wish I had not forgotten my umbrella the day the rain came. My hair looked great, and my shoes were dry when the day started. By the end of the day, I looked like a drowned rat and my shoes were ruined. A little bit of rain never hurt anyone, but I sure wish I had my umbrella that particular day.
5. I wish I had not worn the shoes I wore yesterday. This is actually a two for one regret. I mentioned on Plurk, that our dog, Rigby, completely ruined one of my favorite pairs of shoes this week. Of course, I wish I had not left them out when I came home on Saturday night, but once I found them ruined, I knew I had to replace them, especially since the outfit I planned to wear yesterday required them. I bought a different pair to wear yesterday, and by the time I reached home after a fairly busy day, I had three blisters and my feet ached. I sure wish I hadn’t bought those shoes!
As you can see, I’ve sort of treated this topic a tiny bit tongue-in-cheek. I don’t have many regrets. I may question a lot of my past actions, but there are only one or two things, I’d actually think about going back to change, if I ever had the chance.
6. There is one thing that weighs on my mind a lot, and it’s why I always try to call my family whenever they cross my mind. I was very close to my cousin, Dustin. He was younger than me, but we had formed a bond when we were young and stayed close. When he went off to college, it was harder to keep in touch. He was changing the world at LSU, and between work and home, our phone calls had grown few and far between. His 20th birthday came, and I told myself I needed to call him, but I was busy at work and put it off for a few days. Five days later, Dustin was killed, struck down as he crossed the street at college. I regret not calling him on his birthday. I regret not making our phone calls more frequent. I regret words not said. I miss him all the time.
I have very few things I wish I had never done, but none compare to the thing I wish I had.
Seven Things That Cross Your Mind A Lot
1. What the fuck?
2. Jesus fucking Christ!
3. You have to be fucking kidding me.
4. Fuck you.
5. Fucking idiots.
6. Are you fucking serious you fucking waste of space?
And that’s about fucking it aside from fucking money and mortality.
Now fuck off and go read a good book!
Eight Ways to Win Your Heart
“The heart has reasons that reason does not understand.” – Jacques Benigne Bossuel
Today’s challenge is all about matters of the heart, my heart to be exact. I’ll list eight things below, each one will be truthful, but even though love can have its simple moments, there is no list you can follow to win someone’s heart.
Obviously, my heart has already been won, and the winning of it was almost like one of those impossible fairground games. Sure it looks easy to throw a dart and hit a balloon to win the prize, but what you don’t always realize is that the darts are usually old and dull, and the balloons are not fully inflated, making them harder to pop, so are the ways of love. We are all working with old dull darts trying to pop balloons that aren’t fully inflated; it’s amazing that we ever find love. So if you’re insistent that it is my heart you want, remember it will take patience and above all skill to win it, and the tips listed below won’t hurt in the pursuit. Once you win it though, you’re going to have to carry it around with you the rest of your life, even though it may be bulky and heavy and you may be tempted to sit it down on a bench as you go ride the tilt-a-whirl, but if you do leave it behind on a dusty, dirty bench, don’t be surprised that when you’re done with your ride, my heart may be gone, picked up by someone else. So with all that in mind:
Step right up and win my heart!
1. Shared Connections:
Some people may refer to this as a spark or a certain je ne sais quoi, but I refer to it as shared connections. Do we have something in common? Do we relate to situations in a similar manner or have shared goals? Are we at the same place in life? Do we enjoy spending time doing similar activities? Can we relate in some way on a personal level that arouses an emotional and sexual response?
Are you uninhibited and candid? Will my unconstrained actions or desire to do things on whim annoy you? Tomorrow I may wake up and want to drive 5 hours to the beach, are you down with it? There is a fine line here between being fun and spontaneous and maniac and uncontrolled. I prefer the former obviously. Life can be mundane and stagnant; we owe it to ourselves to try to inject some unexpected whimsy. Being able to act without restraint and without worry of how you will be perceived by others is important to me. I refuse to live my life fitting into what it is expected, and if you want to win my heart, you must feel the same.
I like my way. Doesn’t everyone feel the same? Even though I want to win at all things, I do exert effort at attempting to reach workable compromises in my relationship. How you handle me when I’m obviously trying to use whatever tools at my disposal to get my way and gain the advantage in most situations will determine how fond I grow of you. If I always get my way, I grow bored quickly. Challenge and compromise will earn my respect and my heart will follow.
4. Great cook
I’m not the best cook. It’s not that I can’t do it. I’m just not creative enough to create a culinary masterpiece. I don’t have the vision. I can make anything by strictly following directions and not straying from them, but when it comes down to does this look right, is it done, etc., I need lots of help. Unfortunately, great meals are important to me, and since I can’t always create my own, I admire those that posses skills that I do not have. I admire artists and chefs, which is probably why I married one. If you can make me a simple, tasty meal with flair, my heart would beat faster in your favor.
5. Lazy days
Some of my favorite days with Joel are obviously the ones when we never left the bed. If the idea of staying naked in bed all day not just having sex, but watching movies, joking, wrestling, stealing covers makes your skin crawl or back ache, it wouldn’t work between us. I know most people would say, how can someone not enjoy this, but some people can’t stand a mess of any sort even just for one day. They feel the urge to jump up, straighten covers, do dishes, etc. and can’t relax and enjoy themselves if something is out of place. I would find those habits annoying if you couldn’t set it aside for at least a day.
I like silly. My favorite moments are usually doing something childish. Joel and I had a blast having a water balloon fight in the backyard. We love to play games like Trouble and Uno, and boy are we competitive when it comes to EVERYTHING! My heart melts at moments like that, even if I have to give Joel a swift shin kick for kicking my ass in a game. Anyone wanting to step up and take a crack at playing the win Stacey’s heart game would have to be willing to let their playful side shine.
Of course, anyone would admit that honesty is important in any relationship or attempted relationship, but I think that being vulnerable and being able to admit weakness is also. A person that admits their weaknesses and owns up to their mistakes demonstrates strength to me. My heart can’t resist.
The silent, stoic man has never appealed to me. I am seduced by words. You do not need to be a poet, but being able to turn a phrase or show your wit in a text or email will make my heart flutter. Word play turns me on.
Warning: List is not all inclusive, prizes are not guaranteed. No refunds or returns accepted.
The challenge in today’s topic isn’t telling you nine things about me. That’s easy. The challenging part is coming up with nine unique facts that you may not already know.
For most of you, I’ve been spewing facts, thoughts and issues at you since 2009, some of you have even been with me for longer than that. With the level of questions I’ve been asked in Plurk or blog posts I’ve wrote here, I’m not sure there are any surprises left.
So, listed below are nine things about me that you may know already, but pretend to be surprised anyway.
1. I don’t drink coffee, but I do eat liver. What does liver have to do with coffee? Nothing.
2. I started my first real paying job at 12 years old working at the local library. Nothing will make you lose faith in the human race more than working at a public library. I stuck with it for over 3 years working about 25 hours a week. That should tell you how much I love books. There were some bright moments, and I do feel like I was able to inspire readers with some great book recommendations, but in the future I prefer to keep my passion for reading separate from the unwashed masses.
3. If we’re going out drinking and you have hopes to get me drunk, you better bring a lot of money and be patient, after years of drinking games with soldiers, my alcohol tolerance is quite high. I can still get quite buzzed though, for example, Saturday night, it took about 8 shots and 8 drinks to reach a nice relaxed buzz. Drunk would take probably double that. My poor liver! Honestly, having a high alcohol tolerance is not something I’m proud of, I wish I was the two drink lightweight, but it is sort of a fun parlor trick I’ve used to drink a few of Joel’s friends under the table.
4. Oh here’s a big surprise fact: I love talking to strangers! Okay, that’s not much of a surprise at all for all you strangers I’ve reached out and talked to at some point or another. My best friend in high school was always frustrated when we’d go out to the movies and I’d end up meeting and talking to other people. Our one on one time would turn into a meet new people group date. I’ve just never had a problem striking up a conversation, and the best part about talking with strangers is you can meet them, get to know them, have a great time and then you never have to worry about that whole maintenance part of the friendship. I’m not so good on the follow-up.
5. My father and his friends call me the “World Traveler”, though I’ve never been out of North America. Most of the traveling I did was solo, unplanned traveling between the ages of 16 to 20. I actually ran away from home three times on whims. I guess the worst one that freaked my parents out was when I snuck out in the middle of the night, drove about 1500 miles and stayed gone about a month. I was 18 at the time, so perhaps it was less running away and more just stretching my legs. I know I put a little bit of gray in my dad’s hair and a few wrinkles on my mom’s face, but other than my desire to leave them forever, I was a pretty darn good kid.
6. Until the age of 12, I had never worn pants, earrings or make-up, cut my hair or watched TV. I went to church from about the age of 5 to 12, and even though we followed all the rules, I wouldn’t necessarily call us devout. My parents are Christian, but I never felt strangled by their religious views. Church was actually fun to me at that age. Once we stopped going to church at age 12, I never really started back. I wear make-up now. I keep my hair between chin and shoulder length. I watch about 3 hours of television a week, usually by streaming it online. My time spent in the clutches of organized religion only means that when Joel references a show that was on television when we were younger, I most likely have never seen it.
7. I’m not artistic. I can’t draw. My handwriting is atrocious. I guess that’s all I have to say about that.
8. I like to make music playlists, though I’m not very creative when I name them. I have a playlist for cleaning entitled Cleaning. I have a playlist for cleaning around the holidays entitled CleaningHoliday. I have a playlist for eating crawfish entitled Crawfish Night. There’s a Fun playlist, a Girls playlist, an Indie playlist, a playlist for when I’m getting dressed to go out entitled Out, one for shower time called you guessed it Shower, and of course the old standby sex playlist named Sex. There’s actually a Sex and a BusinessTime playlist, depending on my mood.
9. I like lists and spreadsheets. Obviously, as you can tell by this one.
Hopefully you learned something new about me, and if you didn’t learn anything new, all I can say is geez, stop stalking me already. Some girls do like their privacy, well okay that’s something else about me, a bonus for people that read down this far, I’m not really that much of a private person.
10 Things I Want to Say to 10 Different People Right Now
I’m going to try out a 10 day challenge to jumpstart my blog writing again, and the topic for day one is listed above. I’m already stumped. I think the main reason I’m having trouble with this topic is because saying what I need to say to someone has never been a problem for me. I think a better topic for me might be “Ten Things You Wish You Hadn’t Said to Ten Different People”. Of course, if I go changing each topic to fit my needs, it wouldn’t really be a challenge, right?
I made my list by deciding to pick people who may actually get to read what I wrote, because I don’t always say what I need to say to them in 140 character bursts. I also picked a couple of people who will never read this blog post, but what I want to say to them needs to get out somehow, even if the person it is intended for never gets to read it.
I picked you first, because thoughts of you have consumed me over the last 18 months. I don’t know why I’ve picked you to focus on out of the bunch, but I think it’s because I see myself in you. I know you feel remorse. I believe you, but I don’t trust you. I wish you’d disappear, but I know that even if you did, my thoughts of you will still remain. The problem I have isn’t with you Amy. It never was. It was always with me.
Even though the problem is with me, it would still be okay if you disappeared.
You’re talented, beautiful, intelligent and above all so very interesting! We may not talk often, but if I were to plan my perfect day in Second Life, spending time with you would be at the top of that list. You know who you are and aren’t afraid to show your style even if it’s not the traditional look that everyone else in Second Life seems to favor. In a world where everyone seems to want to grab the same hair, shirt and shoes, you put together looks that are so varied, but each one screams Nuuna! Plus, come on, your boobs are the best!
Love, kisses and motorboats,
Thanks for putting in that 80% and not hating me for it. Sometimes your “Hi” comes at just the right moment. It’s so refreshing to have someone to talk to that makes things easy. There’s no drama, no worry that my secrets will be spread to other people. The advice you give is always spot on, and it makes me smile to know that somewhere in Canada, someone occasionally thinks of me, even if it may only be because you don’t have electricity to distract you. Whatever the reason, you are appreciated, and I promise I’ll never let Joel set you on fire!
Daila aka The Person That Would Park on the Street to Visit You, even if people thought she was a hooker
It has taken me a long time to stop trying to figure you out and just appreciate your ways. You know who you are and exactly what you want, and I’m envious! I think I’ve finally stopped wanting to do you and just want to be you. That’s a step up for me! You might make me a better person by challenging my view of the world and what makes people content or some shit like that. Okay, that’s probably going too far. How about instead, I’ll just say, “You make me want to spend more time on my hair, if only because I’m jealous of yours”.
Bone & Sehra,
I’m cheating and combining you both into one, but that’s just because when I think of one of you; I think of both of you. It’s very much a compliment. You fit together, and your success at transitioning your relationship to real life is an inspiration to so many people who are considering it. Of course that transition worked because you did everything right! Even though we don’t get to spend as much time together as I’d like, I try to follow your plurks and just want to say, I’m proud of you both!
Keep keeping on!
You are a good person. I did you wrong. You’re one of my regrets. Not because our relationship would have worked, but because when I knew it wasn’t working, I should have been mature enough to tell you. Instead I bolted as usual, but I had more reason to bolt than you knew. I wish I had told you everything, but if I did, you’d hate me. I sort of hate myself for that year too.
I’m glad you’re happy now. Your family is beautiful. I look at your children, and I wonder.
Hey! I miss you too! You are my oldest and best SL friend. I will make time to spend with you, but I need to know you even still want me to make the time.
IM me maybe?
I’m curious about you! What are you up to? What’s going on? I hope life is fantastic and you’re so happy. That’s what I want for you!
I’d love to catch up.
You make me laugh quite often. One day I will reward you with massive amounts of cookies delivered straight to your door, but until then all I can offer up as repayment are jokes at Ansel’s expense.
All the rest of you,
I enjoy being a tiny part of your life. Thank you for reading my blog. Thank you for reading my plurks. Thank you for letting me respond in your plurks. We may only share a small connection, but those connections keep me coming back almost every day.
Daila Freaking Holder
Remember a while back when I told you I had never been a “mean girl”, just a blunt, slightly sarcastic one?
Well that hasn’t always been technically true. (See my post on online deception down below if this slight untruth bothers you.)
From the time I could talk to about fourth grade, I was hell on wheels. I could blame the fact that I was the baby of the family, and my parents spoiled me. I could blame my father, who I easily had wrapped around my finger. Perhaps the truth about little red-headed girls are true, perhaps we really don’t have souls?
Until I reached the age of 10, I had quite a few bad girl moments. When I was quite young, I remember people being charmed by the bad things I said, or the way I’d rudely interrupt adult conversations to give my point of view. I remember my brother and sister’s teenager friends asking me outrageous questions just to hear what I’d say next.
When I started kindergarten, I was placed in a classroom that I didn’t like much at all. First of all, my teacher was very very mean, wore muumuus, and didn’t find it funny at all when I would try to talk the other kids into not listening to her. The first day a dumb boy put his dirty foot on my napmat, and when I kicked him hard in the knee, I got the paddling. Not fair! Not fair at all! Within the first two weeks, I had been paddled 4 times and once in front of two classes. After that embarrassing moment, I decided I had enough!
Fortunately for me, my classroom was very over-crowded, so when my teacher announced that some of the students may be moved to another classroom, I got out of my seat and marched to her desk with a plan. I knew I couldn’t just come out and say, “I hate you, so move me to a new class.”, so instead I went the impartial route, “Mrs. Smith, since there is already another Stacey in the class, I feel it would be in our best interest to move me to another classroom to avoid any confusion.” I’m not sure I worded it quite in that way, but you get the gist. Though for some odd reason, I feel like that my name would have been at the top of that “to be moved” list no matter if I wanted it to be or not.
Once I got away from Mrs. Smith, kindergarten got a lot better! I met a boy. His name was Anthony, and I started my first relationship by kissing him repeatedly under the table during naptime. I’m not even sure he wanted to be kissed, but who cared what he wanted, I wanted it damnit! After a short memory check, I think all of my relationships since then started the exact same way. I guess you do learn everything you need to know in kindergarten!
Anthony and I had quite a few adventures. He was a quiet kid and went along with everything I told him to do, including breaking back into the classroom and into the teacher’s desk to steal my car back during recess. We didn’t get caught btw! My first of a few thefts during elementary school.
My kindergarten report card displays a series of large red N’s representing “non-satisfactory”
Keeps hands to herself: Big Red N
Works without distracting others: Big Red N
Respects Authority: Big Red N
Well you get the point…
First grade didn’t get any better, sure I changed my N’s to A’s, but my conduct grade sure didn’t improve. I remember shoplifting earrings and selling them in class. A girl named Amy bought them. They were only cheap clip-ons, but she gave me $3!
By third grade, I mastered the social skills of ignoring the girls I didn’t like and encouraging everyone else to ignore them too. I remember one girl, who was very nice and sweet. She was so nice and sweet that it was almost unbelievable, and I didn’t like her one bit. My friends and I ignored her all school year, but she was so nice, she just kept coming back asking to play. Years later, in high school that girl and I became very good friends, and I apologized for my childish ways.
By fourth grade, instead of shutting out other girls, I had started to notice boys, and I hated them all with a passion. The many kisses Anthony and I had shared at naptime had faded from my memory, and I wanted blood, boy blood! After many taunts and girls rule, boys drool chants, I led a boy versus girl war. The girls rushed the boys, pulling hair and kicking shins, and ironically the boys fought pretty much the same way. The boys claimed victory that day, though I still call it a draw. I actually have a very small scar on my bottom lip from where a boy’s nails dug in as he tried to punch me in the face. Ohhhh the good times….
By the time fifth grade rolled around, I had matured. I actually turned into one of those fairly nice girls that tried to obey the rules, followed directions and wanted to be teacher’s pet, though upon occasion, during a hot debate, I’d lose my cool and my spoiled bad side would show through.
I actually saw my second kindergarten teacher not too long ago. She has been teaching for many years, but of course, she remembered me. I don’t think many of my elementary teachers forgot me. I remember my third grade teacher telling me she paddled me more than she paddled any other girl ever. It’s good to be remembered!
I leave you with an old, poor quality picture. As you can tell by the look on my face, I was probably plotting something evil.
For little red-headed girls everywhere, be memorable.
I feel restless.
In an attempt to conquer the hungry, gnawing grip of restlessness, do we attempt to fill our time with things that don’t matter, because we’re afraid of what we’d do under its spell if they did matter?
Restlessness can be dangerous. We try to shake it off by turning to new pursuits or reexamining old distractions, but perhaps it’s the current that is really demanding examination.
I’ll occupy my mind during this restless period with television or music or words, but not actions. Never actions.
Clear and purposeful acts require forethought, planning and if undertaken during brief periods of restlessness could lead to regrets.
I always regret regrets. They are quite regrettable and usually throb with finality.
And like a good book, I have trouble setting my regrets aside. I cling to them. I worry them as if my tongue caressing a sore in my mouth, a slight combination of pleasure and pain.
Restless actions lead to regrets which can lead to sleepless nights. And of course, sleepless nights lead directly to wordy, nonsensical blog posts.
I have a million questions about myself, my actions, my yearning for distractions, but restless periods never bring answers.
I’ll stop prying and find a new show to watch instead.
Wish me luck.