Fuck you. (reboot)

Offended?

Good. You should be. I mean, those two words should offend you in some way or another.
What shouldn't offend is a picture of one of my kids, standing on the curb at a solstice parade, in bloomers and body paint.  What also shouldn't offend you is my child sitting on the top of a boat in a pair of bathing suit bottoms. At the beach. In the summer. In a swimsuit that I believe suitable for her age. I. Me. Her Mom.

THAT is what I think should NOT be offensive.

But here's the thing.

I get it. I get there are many, many sick and twisted people that get their rocks off looking at pictures of little kids. I get that kids get kidnapped. Raped. Killed. I am 38, thank you very much. I have lived on this sick fucking planet the whole time and last I checked there is NOTHING I can do about the twisted people that I share air with.

Here's the thing.

I can do something about this.

We ALL can.

We can all make this shit stop. We can put our proverbial feet down and say #freeyourmom206
and every other (mostly Mother's) accounts that are getting attacked. Hacked! Targeted! Taken down. Stomped on. Deleted!

I would love to blame someone. I would love that buttwipe to have to put his (it's totally a chick) name on the report so I can go take a look at his (her, lets be real) shit and make sure he (she) is following MY rules. Why not? Fair is fair, right?

Wrong, Jessika. You know better than that. Shit isn't fair. LIFE isn't fair and until recently I have always told my kids "life isn't fair". This is something I have wanted them to take with them through their lives, I wanted it to be instilled in them, I guess so that they would never have to be surprised or expect things to be fair.

Not anymore.

Those kids- same ones I am apparently breaking every social media rule with- are hearing a different tune from me. Their Mom, the one that has purposefully put them in harms way.
NOT.
 I have not done that at ALL. IG should be thanking me. They should be thanking me for doing what I do. For being a self employed Mother of 3, using their stupid social media devise to help spread the word that life can be amazing. They are not. They are keeping me from it all. They are stopping me in my tracks. They are making me think "why do I use this stupid thing?" "why do I bother?".
I am not famous. No one cares about my pictures except for me BUT what people do care about is a Mother of 3 being taken advantage of by a platform that is used by millions.

Here's the thing.

There's porn on Instagram.
It's there. I have seen it.
It's not where I like to get my porn, it's not where I want my porn but I don't give a shit about what those people are doing or why.
I have a life. I am living it and my life is being socially shut down by some faceless coward and that oxygen thief is being BACKED by Instagram. They are letting those bitches get away with it all.

"They", "these people", "asshole", "scum", can go on Instagram and just decide they don't like my pictures. They can go "oh that's 'wrong'" and "I would never.." and they can "tell" IG that they don't like it, then IG decides it's cool to just take my shit down.

Here's the thing.

IT'S NOT!

Spread the word. Send this to your boss. Your paper. Your news anchor.
Send this and any other blog, photo, story you have heard about this topic and MAYBE we can do something about this whole pile of shit we (mostly Mothers) are sitting in.

I have heard some chatter but to tell you the truth I don't think the nucleus is being fixed. I don't think the core of the problem is being looked at, I think they take a page down, hear some noise and put it up and that is it. It's like taking the gum out from under your coffee table and just hoping it'll never happen again. I want the gum, the table and the fucking hand that put it there to talk. I want this shit to be fixed for all of us.

And if my page gets taken down, you better go to #freeyourmom206 for a complete nude picture of me, cause I ain't goin' out like that.

When you get sick of it all,

shut up.

Seriously, just shut up already.
I should take my own advice I guess, but what fun would that be?

Seems like every few months a bunch of people get sick of it all. Like of everything.
Meaning, your comments, your pictures, your parenting style and what you had for dinner. Your desire to take a FB quiz because you want to know what kind of wild animal you would be, or which character on Friends you would most likely marry. They don't even want to see your face anymore. Didn't you hear? Selfies are out this month.

I guess it is all part of it. Part of social media. It's social, says it right there in the title and we all get sick of our friends in real life, so being that this is a media version means you too are getting sick of them and their shit.

But why tell them? Honestly, I feel like it is the lamest form of complaining. Being a social shamer by going on a rant about how lame it is to have 25 pictures uploaded of a cat or because someone wants to write about what they ate, how far they ran, is the equivalent of yelling at someone as you pass them on the road. It's just dumb and a complete negative to society.

We are all haters. Like me, right now. At this very minute I am hating all over the haters of social media. Recently I read an quiz, however funny it was, about how to tell how annoying you are on FB. Funny thing was you had to take the quiz to find out but in the fucking thing said you were lame because you take quizes! Like... you can't win!

I would tell you when I think you are being lame, if I gave two shits. Usually I just stop coming around and for the most part when people stop coming around me, I assume they are thinking the same about and that is A-OK. I am perfectly fine with that.

I just wonder why it happens so incessantly? Like why all of the sudden does it seem like people are coming out of the woodwork to complain? When I answer the phone and the voice on the other end starts complaining, I completely glaze over and wish I wouldn't have picked up. Not that I can't be a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen but sometimes it is just too much.

My gut tells me the windfall of complaints flooding my FB wall is as simple as this-
people are sheep. When they read a complaint, even if quasi comical, "enough pictures of your kids already!", that person then takes the lead and vents their frustration or maybe targets someone who is on their nerves. They take the false security that the internet gives you and they lay into something or worse, someone.

 Just stop it. Get over yourselves. Whatever happened to talking about people behind their backs? Were you not raised right? All the passive aggressive shit online is gross and annoying and it makes me stay away... maybe that is how it should be. Maybe some of us take the hint and we just stop going back to the thing that annoys us... maybe.

I like social media. I don't like this part but I like hearing my friend Jonna get excited when her hockey team wins or when Danny shares a disgusting picture or when Jenn runs 6 miles. I like that. I even like when some friends take 20 selfies, I think it is silly and sweet and if that makes them feel good, I am not going to make fun of them on their FB wall. There are plenty of people that post things that are annoying, abrasive political rants or putting their partner on blast and you want to know what I do? I just click a button and it's gone.

How their death shows your salt.

I am not writing about the death of a movie star this morning.

I am not writing about the death of a friend or relative. 

I am writing about the death of a human.

Yesterday, like much of the world, I read the sad news of Paul Walker's death.

I was instantly sad with the sight of his picture that was attached. It was a somber photo. He was looking down and had a smirk. I was sad about his death, the untimeliness of it all... 

About 10 days ago I lost a friend. 

My neighbor of 10 years.

He was not only my friend but he was a son, a husband and a Father. 

He was an eye, I always felt, watching over my house and my family when my husband was away. 

He was the man that we smiled and and waved to on a weekly basis. 

He was always smiling.

He worked on his boat and smoked the salmon that he caught, always sharing. Always smiling.

The sudden passing of my friend, 54 years young, has kept me in a constant state of worry. 

I worry about my own mortality. I worry about my husband. 

What would he do without me? Or worse yet, what would we do without him?

I am sad and in a somewhat dark place, as death tends to lend itself to the dark side. I am coping though. Remembering the good, trying not to focus too much on the fact that I will never see him again.  That his children will be without him. His beautiful wife. Her sadness is my sadness. I will be a good friend to her, even though I am paralyzed to help. I can do nothing to make her feel better. I can only be her friend and that will have to be enough- for both of us.

Before going to sleep last night I couldn't believe the jokes and rude comments about Paul Walker's death. There were people who were actually saying his death didn't matter. There were "friends" of mine that were writing about what they believed to be unjust shock waves- "if it had been De Niro".... seriously, I read that.

People are attempting to make jokes about the Fast and Furious movies, how he wasn't a good enough actor to be sad over. 

My stomach turned and I got really really angry.

What if this was my neighbor? What if someone wrote that about my friend?

That is the way it felt, because Paul was someone's neighbor. He was someone's son and friend and he was someone's Father. 

Would these "friends" say this about their neighbor? How they weren't good enough to be remembered? I can't say that they wouldn't. I can say that they are no longer people I associate with because I can take a lot, I can read ridiculous political opinions and still be your "friend". You can talk about Obamacare all you want, or the war or the GMO's. You can ask me to support something I don't believe in, you can talk about your God. I can really see the difference in all of us. I can accept, not support, a lot of things but I cannot accept, support or even be remotely associated with making light of someone's death. 

They are dead. 

They are gone.

Never coming back. 

Not to be in anymore movies, or smoke anymore fish.

RIP