The Internet is Interfering with My Ability to Hide My Head in the Sand.

When the question 'How Are You' can't be answered with a simple word like 'Fine,' it seems the only options are to lie or tell the truth and run the risk of making the questioner feel uncomfortably obligated to listen or worse, ask more questions. Hating both those options, I prefer a third: Temporarily absenting myself thereby avoiding the question altogether. It's in my nature to vanish when things suck, but Facebook and Twitter are making my disappearance more visible than I'd like.

"Hey Kiddo - How ya doing? I haven't seen your' witticisms or rants. Hope you're alright."

"Suddenly worried, due to what seems like an unusual, extended period of schtumness from your good self, that all might not be okay." 

"Hey Luv. Where ya hidin'? XO."

"Hi! Miss you." 


I have lovely friends. I am lucky to have each and everyone of them that is willing to put up with me. I just don't know what to say to them at times like this. When the going gets tough, This Tough goes on Hiatus, into Hiding, and Hybernates in her Invisible Plastic Bubble.

The last time things got rough, The Boy and I moved clear across the country in the middle of the night. We told our jobs, the landlord, and a few close friends then packed the pets and everything that fit in a truck. As world got around the emails and phone calls came with roughly the same question: Why did you leave your support system?

What can I say? I've taken care of myself for so long, I don't know how to use a support system without feeling like a burden. The Boy is my support system. He asked for the job, and I gave it to him. It wasn't easy, but I did it. The Plastic Bubble now stretches just enough to accommodate The Boy, the dog, and the cat, but that's at maximum capacity.

Some time has passed since we got here. I've made new friends and have been coaxed into Social Networks which allow me to keep in touch with those I left behind. And here I am, once again, temporarily avoiding them all because one day it will be easier for me to say the words, "My father died," than to currently say, "My father is dying."

I have a fake Twitter account I use for Trolling. I know it's immature, but when things get really awful, I take my frustration out on idiots who idolize Sarah Palin and Ayn Rand. Just yesterday, I got a Tweet from a kind but complete stranger who follows that account. He wanted to know where I've been and If I'm OK. Oh, for Fuck's Sake. Not even Waldo could stay hidden these days...

☯ Circle of Friends

When I'm by myself

nobody else can say Goodbye.