Crossing the Digital Divide (Making Friends)

Someone once told me that in order to make friends as an adult you have to all but force yourself into someone else’s life. We all have jobs and families of our own, so making new social connections tends to fall pretty low on the list of other “grown up” priorities. As a young Military Spouse in Germany during the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom, we made connections with other wives that were in the same place we were- on the home front of our generation’s war. We made friends with the wives of the men our husbands were deployed with and communicated regularly to keep each other informed of their safety while nursing our own hearts in our camaraderie. We scheduled coffee dates, but knew we could pick up the phone at any time and just chat about the day to day life stuff we were dealing with.

We had small kids and some friendships started with small talk at the bus stop that eventually led to coffee and cards during the day. We adopted each other as family, and thanks to social media many of us are still given glimpses into each others’ lives all these years later.

Later in life, as a single, working mother of a teenager there were different ways of connecting. I went back to the Open Circle (a Pagan-based church of sorts) I had attended with my ex-boyfriend and forged new connections with people, even as the structure unraveled from the core. People could simply invite you out for dinner, over for a beer after work or to a friend’s backyard barbeque where you could meet other people. Making friends in single-land was easy because I was still looking for a partner and determined to not just sit at home alone.

Around the time of my own life shift back into married-land, the changes in social media and how people connect started to dramatically shift as well. In my mother’s time, you had to go out to a bar, or hope to run into a confused cutie needing assistance checking the cantaloupes in the produce aisle if you wanted to meet other people. Even then you had no idea about what they liked or didn’t like, beyond cantaloupe and corn flakes depending on their grocery cart contents. You had to gamble the odds that they were single, available, and interested in your gender. You had to hope they liked the same kinds of movies and wanted the same white picket fence or dark, Gothic dungeon that you did. You had to feel things out, and then get to know if they were a Bible Banger, a Prancing Pagan, or an intellectual agnostic that would look at your crucifix or hippy crystals with scorn once you made it past the first date and back to your place. You were flying blind, but because that was the only way people kept at it and sought out their friends and lovers face-to-face.

Online dating and social groups such as MeetUp have changed the way people make friends. While we still hope to start up a conversation with the cutie singing karaoke like nobody’s watching, or that the bartender might actually want to make friends and not just tips, the convenience of getting to know people online seems to lessen the likelihood of those sorts of organic meetings. Why take a chance when you can view in-depth profiles, or only go to events with other people who share your interests before you so much as shake a hand? It feels part lazy and part contrived. And at the same time, OkCupid and MeetUp are making for better relationships. One study showed that couples who meet online have an increased success when compared to those who meet organically in public places or through friends.

I guess the question is how to cross that digital divide into genuine friendship. With dating sites it’s generally easy. As a female I seldom have to do more than visit a profile and once they see I’ve seen them they send me a message. I get a lot of the “Wow! Ur so pretty!” messages but occasionally they’ll show me they did more than see my picture pop up before contacting me. As a female in a monogamish relationship where we only date men and only date together the “pretty girl so pretty” messages are clear indicators that the guy contacting me is not going to meet us in person. When we get messages that are addressed to the two of us that’s a sign that they did more than see boobs and hit send. Those are nice. But like any digital contact, it’s easily dismissed unless you take the next step to meet in person.

The other side of the coin is when you do meet someone in person and offer that contact information to connect online. There have been a handful of cool people we met while out and about that we thought would become real-life friends. We took that step of being “friended” on Facebook or FetLife, but beyond an occasional ‘like’ on a post, there has been no further contact.

Successfully crossing that digital divide can be done. I met my husband on OkCupid, and when we decided to go the monogamish route we met someone we were involved with for a few months the same way. We’ve met people at MeetUp events that have since become friends on Facebook and FetLife, and we continue to chat online as well as make (and follow through with!) plans to do things in real life. The obstacles that are killing us are distance and time. All of the people we’ve connected to live at least 45 minutes away, and the only time we are both off work is the weekend. We fill our calendar with trips to NOVA, events in DC and shows in B’more every Saturday and most Fridays. Our weekends are awesome! But here it is on Thursday night and I’m lonely for the days when I could just drop by a friend’s house for a cup of coffee without needing to pencil it in.

A Tree on the Hill *Trigger warning* (Teen Suicide attempt)

A good friend of My Kiddo hung himself last night. He made a phone call before he did it and some of his friends found him hanging from a tree on the hill where they would go hiking. They say he was up there somewhere between 5 and 20 minutes before the kids found him and cut him down. He's in the hospital and still hasn't regained consciousness.

As a parent and of a teenager who has shown signs of depression, this terrifies me. As the parent who found out because she told my husband when he got home from work rather than talking to me all day I'm double stung right now.

She's torn up over wanting to be there with him. And she blames me and my choice to move us out here with The Mr. last year for her not being back  "home" with her friends.

The Mr. took her out for dinner and I'm working right now. I'm glad it's slow, but I could use a little distraction myself.

I don't want to write about her friend in the past tense... but being that we've been gone for almost a year all of my memories of him start with 'he was...' He was the kid that came with us to Renaissance Festival and assured me that if any older guys tried hitting on My Kiddo that he'd step up and tell them she was underage. He came in a full-on High Lander garb with face paint and a sword he couldn't bring into the gates. He was on the color guard team with her- one of only 2 boys. He was one of the kids that was always welcome in our home and always respectful without being schmarmy and over-doing the Eddie Haskall routine. I don't think he's 18 yet.

I had just a brief moment with My Kiddo where she let me hold her and cry. She doesn't let me 'mommy' her often and I had to all but force her to let me embrace her. She just kept saying that she couldn't imagine him not being here anymore.

Logan, please stay with us.

Rheumatology Appointment

Tomorrow is first appointment with rheumatology. I'm equally afraid of being given a "diagnosis" and of being told they don't know what's wrong with me. The pain in my hips started 10 years ago, but I minimized and ignored it for a long time. Back in Texas the doctor told me I had bursitis in both hips and gave me cortisone shots with giant, scary needles directly into my hip joints. The last time they did that, the hit a nerve and I was in excruciating pain for more than a week after.

When I finally went to the doctor here, at The Mr.'s urging, I was sent to physical therapy and "diagnosed" as OBESE. Losing weight seemed to be the only thing that mattered to my doctor. After 2 sessions of PT, I was told that the pain was clearly too bad to continue the basic exercises she wanted me to do.

It was only when I told my doctor that my daughter had similar pain and rheumatoid indicators that she sent for additional blood work for me. I almost wish we didn't have the access to the results that we do. One of the tests came back at such an elevated level that I was marked as "severe cardiac risk." It explained the difficulty I had getting through jazzercise without seeing stars that led me to stop going. It's given me a way to rationalized and not beat myself up so badly over my inability to do things like roller skate (which I LOVE and is low-impact) for more than 15 minutes before I start to get dizzy and sweat profusely. It makes me less guilty over how out of breath I am whenever I come home and climb the stairs to the apartment.

It's a relief in one way to know there's a reason for how I feel, but I wonder if it's a chicken or egg situation. Did I gain this weight because it's so hard on my heart to exercise? Or did the 15 pounds I've gained this year cause the cardiac issues? Am I fat because of the sludge in my blood? Or did is the sludge to blame for my inability to exercise like I used to, causing the weight gain?

Looking over the questions they ask in the first visit paperwork I am grateful for my mobility. I CAN do all of the things they asked about, but more and more I find myself avoiding things because the pain I will feel after is so bad. The number one thing that causes pain in my hips is sex. I've found myself not being as involved and enjoying it less because I'm afraid of how much I will hurt the next day. It is a vicious cycle that impacts so much more than my body...

Finding OUR PEOPLE at last!

So much awesomeness to write about from this weekend!

Friday night date with the lawyer went well. Not sure I’m feeling any romantic chemistry, but he was super cool and a lot of fun to hang out with.

The emcee of the burlesque show spent some time with us at the table, and said he really liked having us there. Now, that’s usually just good hosting, especially given the fact that The Mr. had organized MeetUp events for these shows that were successful to the point that nearly a quarter of the audience was from the group last time. However, the emcee made a point of stating he really liked US and distinguished that as a personal statement. I asked him about social networking (we have his e-mail, but Facebook or FetLife friending is a whole other level) and walked him to his car to pull up my FB profile on his phone.

Once back inside, we started a great discussion about the kinds of MeetUp groups we were part of: Poly/Swinger/ Alt Lifestyle stuff that’s based all over the area. My neon therapy sign lit up and we ended up in a fairly personal discussion about his recent interests in opening up and moving beyond the “nice guy" box he’s spent his life pigeon-holed into. Looking forward to hanging out with him socially.

There was an unfortunate incident at the end of the night involving the Mr.’s consumption level and an undisclosed bar policy that could be described as an “Asshole tax.". We ended up having a long talk with the manager and in the end, not only didn’t have to pay it, but had her business card in hand and the request to contact her directly next time we bring in a group so she can be sure things are more smooth.

We went to the monthly discussion group Saturday and stayed until 9pm playing Cards Against Humanity with The Dom, his wife and the BBW from Truth or Dare who I need to re-nickname. She is 10 years younger than me and doing so many things I want to do: writing (on one of my favorite sites and for PAY), Sex Education through a boutique shop, and a webcam model. I’m trying to find a way to be her friend without being creepy, stalker-like and just gushing over how fabulous she is.

BF1 was at the meeting, as was the Creme Brulee girl he’s gone on a few dates with, and her husband. I was happily surprised to see that she is not as petite as others he’s expressed interest in. I was really wondering what his level of physical attraction was to my body type. Creme Brulee girl and I could comfortably borrow from each others closet and she is super pretty. The dynamics of her marriage looked exactly like we’d imagined after talking to BF1 about it. The hubby was tattooed with a shaved head, totally my type physically. However he emitted a nervous energy that, coupled with his smaller stature made me think of a chihuahua. It made me sad for him to see how less-than-interested and almost anxiety-ridden he seems to be about the poly/dating stuff while she’s happily enjoying the lifestyle.

BF1 did a great job of socializing and floating around the room sitting beside me holding my hand for a bit, then sitting beside Creme Brulee girl and snuggling up. The energy of the whole day was like that. There were lots of hugs, and even a half-assed snuggle with The Dom at one point. We are hosting the next 2 discussion groups at our place, as The Dom has to be out of town.

Conversational highlights of the day were when BF1 quoted something I’d written to the group. “Eating a salad does not make you a vegetarian." (About the concept of fluid expression of sexuality and the use of labels.) And a question that was posed by an older man we hadn’t met before. He asked The Dom’s wife: “Is that freeing? Or do you find yourself shackled to rebellion?"

There are e-mails to send, more coffee to drink and then that crappy job thing. Next weekend we are doing karaoke then “Sharknado" with friends  and I am so excited!

Job Stuff... Ugh!

I have to be a grown up and make some hard decisions. More than that I have to take a step into the unknown in a way that could potentially impact our daily life... Fucking job stuff!

I've been doing this kind of work for 2 years now. After working in restaurants, then mental health/drug rehab, small gigs cleaning houses for acquaintances, respite care and other such domestic assistance jobs I was hired at a call center in Texas. I was still doing the on-the-job training when I interviewed to be a trainer and was promoted. There were so many things I liked about that job... and SO MANY I HATED.

Last year when I announced my move to the company, one of the Corporate Big Wigs pulled me aside and told me that another vendor for the product had work from home jobs doing what I'd been training people to do.

It's a year later and I've been on the escalations desk for most of the time. The thing is that my job revolves around being yelled at by entitled assholes over things we have no control over, or being yelled at by entitled assholes over things that are completely our fault but I personally have little or no way to fix for them. I do all this in the comfort of my yoga pants, mostly due to the fact that my 'office wear' no longer fits.

We just did another "shift bid." What that means is that if you want to change your shift you are gambling... They take all your stats and rank you amongst the others who want to change their schedule.  Only after you've committed to the process do they tell you what your rank is and what shifts you can choose from.

Last time we did this; I ranked #2 and ended up going from 4/10-hr days with Thursday, Saturday and Sunday off to a 5-day work week with Friday and Saturday off. I used to get off work at 9pm, and now I close the desk at 11pm or later. I lost that gamble, but put in again for this bid.

Yesterday I got the e-mail. "You are ranked #1."
 
And then I looked at my options... I can go back to 10 hr days with Saturday, Sunday and Wednesday off (still working too late to really do anything on work nights). I can work an earlier shift (but still too late to go out after work) with 3 consecutive days off- Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. OR I can keep my shift and start job hunting. As of right now, I'm looking at the latter of the options and it scares me to death.

There are so many things about my job that are great:

·         I work from home, so no wardrobe, no commute, The Mr. can keep me company when it's slow, I eat in my own kitchen on breaks...

·         My stats are always above average and my evals are near-perfect.

·         Tonight I've got a meeting scheduled with a team lead to go over the eval that will determine my raise, and I'm going to max that out as well.

·         My co-workers are great, even though I've never met any of them in person. We help each other out and I have become Facebook friends with several, including a bunch of the supervisors.

But then there's the rest of it:

·         I work for a company that's renowned for their customer service, but most of our employees are 'barely min wage' factory workers without any actual customer service, let alone basic knowledge of their job. I spend my day apologizing for those employees lack of common courtesy and cleaning up messes that could have been easily avoided... Messes that cost thousands of dollars and countless hours of frustration.

·         We service a product that sometimes just doesn't work. When the website goes down all we can do is say, "Whoops. Sorry. Guess you'll have to try again later." Or, "Whoops. Sorry about those thousands of dollars in charges, we'll work on getting them refunded. It'll take a few days and more than likely somebody will screw things up so you lose the thing you DID want along with the ones that it *said* didn't go through that you were charged for anyway. Oh. And even then you'll have to pay the higher cost when you figure this out and we'll take another week or so to get you the difference back. Yep. Totally our fault, but I still have to try and work on saving my multi-million dollar company a few hundred dollars so I'll get back to you next week."

·         I work in an industry where, basically shit happens and people lose money and time and then nothing is done to make it right. The regulations are set up to screw over people who have already spent thousands of dollars for something that they may not even get. And I have to tell people, whether they are cursing at me and telling me to kill myself (Yeah. That really happened.) or they are crying and begging for my help (that was most of yesterday) that they are just fucked. And rather than just saying, "Suck it up, Buttercup! You should have read the fine print!" I have to be *nice* about it and hope that they don't send a nasty gram to the wrong department of our company about me. 

So it brings me back to the tough choice. Is it more of a "grown up" move to find something else, despite how bad it looks on my resume to only stay at any given job for a year or less?

Or the better question: Do I have to be a grown-up about this?

The Girl in the Fedora and Pat Benatar

Despite my regret over the ice cream I had after dinner and the initial weirdness of somebody bringing a baby into a bar on a Saturday night, when the bartender exclaimed, "Yes! I remember you two... you sat over there and you couldn't finish your bucket because you had to drive!" I was sure we'd have a really good time there. We were mostly people watching at the bar, noticing the definitive age divide: over 35 on the right side of us, barely legal hipsters in skinny jeans and colorful plaid shirts to the left. The karaoke guy was the best looking guy there, other than The Mr. (I'm not being biased here, I promise!)
 
Directly to our left a guy we dubbed "Tex" was already good and happy when he got up to sing the first song of the night. It was a country song, and when he sat down we were sure the accent was genuine. While he'd been singing, a cute couple that looked just a little younger than us sat down in his place. She was blond, wearing shorts and a tank top with a fedora that complimented her well. He was black, athletic looking, and probably a soldier. When Tex came back, he started chatting them up as though they were old friends. The Mr. heard Tex say to the girl, "I've seen you here before!" To which her boyfriend replied, "Yes, but has SHE see you?"
 
At one point, about 2 yummy rum drinks in, The Mr. had gone to the bathroom and the blond looked down the bar at me and asked, "Are you going to sing?" Her name was Melanie and she talked me into going up with her to sing Pat Benatar's "Love is a Battlefield."

I had been looking around at the crowd, singing, dancing and having a good time and feeling a sense of jealousy and nostalgia for the days when I had a group and a place like that of my own. Here I was being invited to join in and I was terrified. When she initially asked me about singing, I had stammered something about how I hadn't sung in years outside of my kitchen, but it didn't take much prodding on her part before I just said, "Sure. I'm down!"

I'm convinced that the Mr.'s reply to my asking how bad it was was kindness in that he said he heard her voice more than he heard mine. I thought I was pretty loud and it is a song I know well. I was drenched in sweat and felt like I was going to hurl, but I made it through with a smile on my face and a picture to prove it.

We chatted with Melanie, "Tex" and her boyfriend Eric bit more before settling back in our spots a few chairs down the bar from them. I was drinking water at this point, not out of inebriation, but out of hydration issues and the nausea that just wouldn't quit.

I sent The Mr. to the car for some gum in the hopes it would help my tummy. While he was away, Melanie came back down and talked about singing together again. Eric had put her in for the karaoke staple, "Summer Nights" from "Grease." I hadn't exactly agreed but hadn't declined either.

The next thing I knew, the temporary crown from my recently root canalled tooth popped off into my mouth. I was flung into an anxiety attack so bad that I was barely able to maintain composure long enough to apologize and say goodbye to the first people we'd met organically out here. I felt awful, but there was no way I was going to be able to stay, let alone sing after that.

We made it home where I promptly lost $14 worth of yummy rum drink, $6 worth of Cold Stone ice cream and a portion of my dinner. I felt much better after that, and ended the night testing out some goodies we picked up at the "toy" shop earlier in the evening.

Another awesome weekend officially ends in 2 hours. Boo for the work stuff. Yay for Pat Benatar and cool people that talk to strangers in bars!

Thanks, Melanie! Hope we bump into each other again.