Love, Jimmie

Are we friends on Facebook? Rather, were we?  Because now we aren’t.

*

On New Year’s Day, I deactivated my Facebook account for good. It wasn’t a resolution really, but more of a nice round date on which to make decision.  My finger hovered over the “close” button for some truly anxious moments and I felt a little sick.  I wondered how I would keep up with everyone.  How would I know what was going on the world?  Or with my friends?  But after those first panicky thoughts, I pushed the button and felt an enormous sense of relief.  It was done.  No more would I voluntarily read things like this:

Obama, most excellent President, hated by white Christians simply because he’s black. (Not true)

You can’t take away my Second Amendment rights! Ima holster up my pistols and swagger on over to Wal-Mart and just let somebuddy try to tell me I cain’t come in.  Just let ‘em.  Swing through McDonald’s afterwards.  This is necessary, y’all!  I’ve got to prove this point right here right now! (Not true)

God took your loved one because He needed another angel! (Not true)

God took your loved one because He needed another angle! (Also not true)

This keeps happening to me! Only me! Why?! (Not true, whatever “this” is)

Jesus is weeping because you haven’t shared this on your wall nor have you typed Amen. Heathen. You’ll burn in hell, oh ye of little faith. (Most definitely not true)

Honestly, it was this coming election is what really did it for me. I know where I sit and no matter how many vitriolic memes or pictures or opinions you post about where you sit, whether I’m aligned with you or not, I’ll not change my mind or think you are a genius.  No one will, really.  You say you want to educate people but what you really want is for someone to validate your opinion (collective you, not specific you).  So instead of being annoyed about it, I changed it.  Besides, I want to continue to like the 346 people that I love and the easiest way to do that is to hold our interactions to a standard of “in person” or “a phone call away.”  And now I’m happy all the time.

Also, as a white Christian, I’d like to share this picture that I love because it tickles me all the way down to my toes. I love the man in this picture and I don’t give two shits if his skin is black or white or a saucy caramel macchiato.  This man, right here on the floor, is just lovely.

This man, too.

*speaking of that “I escaped” up there, Phranke and I played the Escape Game with four strangers on New Year’s Eve. At 11:55 pm the clock started its one hour countdown and we frantically rushed around our tiny little room trying to figure out clues to get us out of there.  At midnight one of the strangers said, “Oh. Happy New Year,” and we all said, “Oh, sure, happy new year,” and then continued to tear the room apart for clues.  My stealthy-ness won the game for us!  It totally did!  (not true – I suck at that game.  I stood around and looked pretty and occasionally got to hold the flash light.)

It was way fun! (True)

The Escape Game