Shock-Blocked

I just found out tonight that, for the first time in my internet life, I’ve been . I’ve been missing the voice of a friend for a while, and assumed she had jumped completely over to . Haven’t been seeing her posts.

After subbing to her blog, which she just restarted, I got confirmation in a post that she’s spending a lot of time on Mastodon again. Hooray! So I looked at her linked profile (she jumps profiles a lot), and it shows that she has me blocked.

I hope it’s an accident, because I don’t know if I said or did anything. There was no discussion. I feel hurt.

But that’s the beauty and the cruelty of the ; you can mute and/or block any account for any reason or no reason at all, and you don’t have to justify it. You’re in control of your relationships; you curate your social graph. You are in charge of your own experience.

I hope I didn’t say anything untoward to cause her to cut me out. I like her; she’s one of the reasons I keep clicking “refresh”. I miss her. If she doesn’t want my posts in her feed, that’s her prerogative. I’m sad about it, but she has agency.

Hope she’s doing well.

Crunch Pockets

Remembering the time I went to Waffle House and ordered a waffle, and upon getting the waffle, sending it back because it was too soft and not crunchy enough, asking them to make another one. I said directly to the face of the waiter — who works at the place that fucking specializes in goddamn waffles — that their waffle wasn’t good enough. They made another one on their dime, and it was also softer than I was expecting. Why? Because I raised myself on goddamn toaster waffles.

WTF was wrong with me? My expectations.

Let this be a lesson to us all.

Hockey Stick

Me at 20: “If I don’t figure out what it means to be a man, I will die alone.”

Me at 30: “If I don’t figure out what it means to be a man, I will die alone.”

Me at 40: “If I don’t figure out what it means to be a man, I will die alone.”

Me at 50: “If I don’t figure out what it means to be a man, I will die alone.”

…