Still shunning social

It’s been nearly two full months since I stopped checking Facebook.  It’s also been about that long that my brog’s been down, keeping me anxious and feeling voiceless when it comes to routine and a simple enjoyment, but that’s a different story.

I’ve learned that Facebook notifications caps at 99, based on the periodic emails I get letting me know that I’ve got 99 notifications since the last time I’ve been on Facebook, and the number is no longer climbing.

In that time, I’ve more or less lost touch with people, as I don’t know what exciting or mundane things that are going on in the lives of the 140+ internet personas that Facebook deems as friends.  Birthdays have come and gone, and the odd random “so-and-so has posted” emails keep me in the loop that people are in fact gabbing away.

There are a few group conversations going on that I’m aware are happening because Facebook notifies me that they’re happening over email, but out of not wanting to break my chain, not because I’m (entirely) antisocial, I’m blind to them.  I haven’t seen any photos or any posts that have me tagged, because I’m a hipster and obtuse.

The thing is, I’ve been mulling over in my head when it is that I want to come back.  I’m enjoying the freedom of ambivalence, and the time I’m not wasting both literally and the time spent thinking about the things people post, because I’m not checking Facebook repeatedly.  I’ve read lots of books, watched some television and movies, did a lot of writing for a brog that I have no idea when will ever be back up and been on two trips so far.  I’m not saying that none of those things would’ve have happened if I’d still been engaged on Facebook, but I did have the luxury of being fairly clear-minded and undistracted by potential distractions.

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A piece of me died

This past weekend, I made a terribly long overdue visit back up to Virginia to visit my family.  After my dad had picked me up from the airport, I suggested that we go out to eat so that we could have some awkward father-son time together.  Ultimately, we ended up going to a Korean joint for jajangmyeon, but on the way there, I could help but feel tempted to suggest the Old Country Buffet that was also on the route to the Korean restaurant, for old time’s sake.

It’s a good thing that such did not come to fruition, otherwise my dad would have witnessed his grown son shed tears – it was closed, permanently.  And as of March of this year, no less.

I knew that OCBs and their parent company were in trouble, because I remember reading posts back in February that documented the company’s financial struggles.  Subsequently, I remember being relieved when the Fairfax OCB was not on the original list of 74 underperfoming restaurants that faced the corporate axe.

Clearly, this is around the time I kind of fell off the internet grid, fell behind in the news, and went dark to the happenings of the world.  Despite surviving the first round of cuts, round two came an abrupt month later, and then all OCBs, as well as affiliate buffet restaurants were all subsequently closed down, with most notably, the Fair City Mall location, that upon its departure, takes a piece of me with it, to the commercial afterlife.

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The world is an awful place

Don’t you just hate it when something really terrible happens, and aside from the obvious agony, empathy and grief from all those vested, it feels like you can’t really post anything to the internet without feeling like an insensitive asshole?  It’s like I want to try and inevitably post things that amuse me, or might amuse others, but you just know everything will fall on deaf ears because something major and tragic has occurred, and nobody’s paying attention to anything but that.

Sounds trite sure, but it’s still one of the things that swirls around in my head at times like this.  Doesn’t mean that the actual recent events are no less important.

It’s absolutely tragic and horrific to hear about the terrorist attack in Paris.  It got me thinking about how it seems like there’s a very sophomoric logic behind the dates in which these massive incidents occur, like how September 11th was supposedly planned because Americans dial 9-11 in an emergency, and how to some degree, it shouldn’t feel like that much of a surprise that a cowardly assault on the people of Paris occurred on Friday the 13th.

I don’t know where to direct my disappointment when it comes to stories like this; it’s easy to point fingers at the Middle East as a whole, but that’s logically irresponsible, because extremists are called such for a reason, although it certainly can’t apply to everyone solely based on similar nationalities.  Then there’s a part of me that condemns the concept of religion, because so much of these terrible things seem to always happen in the name of religion, and how it’s subsequently sad that people, at the basest level, simply can’t mind their own fucking business and accept that there are people who think differently, and the answer is not to kill them, but to leave them be perhaps.

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When real life gets in the way

Especially after an event or a convention where I circulate cards out to try and steer people into visiting my website, I admittedly try to put on a little bit of a face for a little bit, to be slightly more interesting or engaging, to try and get people to possibly become one of my site’s regular six readers, and not necessarily just be a tourist to view and download pictures.

I try and post fairly relevant, or at least interesting things as fluff posts while I arduously slave away at trying to get my photos up as efficiently as possible, so I don’t lose the attention and potential repeat visits from viewers during the week(s) after said events/conventions.

Believe me, I have a lot of things I’d like to say about Dragon*Con, and I’m the type of nerd that jots down thoughts and notes, so I don’t forget them, and can revisit them when I’m in a more appropriate frame of mind to be writing about them.  And there are several things I’m eventually going to write about the convention, but very recently, I’ve admittedly been downtrodden by several things, and positive face in light of potential new viewers be damned, ultimately my brog exists for me to write out the things swirling around in my head, even if they’re not always the most positively entertaining things out there.

Basically, I left Dragon*Con in a fairly positive state of mind; as is often the case after a convention where I took a lot of pictures, I’m excited to get home and unload my camera and get to actually look at the pictures I took, and relax, gather my thoughts, and prepare for the week(s) of trying to come up with content for my site, as well as the long process of individually processing photos and trying to get them looking the best and up as quickly as possible.

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This is legit heartbreak

The spike into my heart: After years and years of dealing with dedicated Goonies fans wandering onto their property, the home owners of the actual home used to portray the Walsh’s home in The Goonies has had enough of tourists, and is taking efforts to close access to the public.

This breaks my heart, it really does.

One thing that I have always wanted to do one of these days was to make a trip out to Astoria, Oregon, and walk along some of the landmarks from The Goonies, because it’s no secret to anyone that it’s one of my all-time favorite movies.  I wanted to see the jailhouse where the Fratellis escaped from, maybe see the pizzeria (if it’s still there) on the docks, where Chunk watched the police chase and subsequently spilled a milkshake all over himself, and of course, see the Walsh family home, where the Goonies themselves gathered and hung out.

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Is nothing sacred anymore??

TL:DR: Eternal lovers, Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy are breaking up.

Ultimately, I think this is one gigantic ploy in order to drum up buzz and interest in The Muppets in general, but still, do all storytellers have to go to such dramatic lengths in order to do so?

Haven’t property creators learned from stuff like Peter Parker and Mary Jane?  I bet money, that FOX will regret separating Homer and Marge Simpson, and eventually bring them back together.

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Atlanta has lost a culinary icon

Long story short: Ann Price, better known as “Miss Ann,” passes away at the age of 72.  She was known for running Ann’s Snack Bar, where it served an iconic item known as the “Ghetto Burger.”

It’s no secret that the Ghetto Burger is one of the most well-known must-try hamburgers in the country, most notably decreed “the best” by the Wall Street Journal at one point.

And as much as I tried to get others to go to Miss Ann’s, or encouraged for people to put their anxieties of going into a scary urban black neighborhood aside for good food, I could never get anyone to go to Ann’s Snack Bar and try a Ghetto Burger.

Now, none of those people ever will.  Nobody ever will, again.

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