Thursday, July 9, 2015

Goin' to Chi Chi's

Eves outside of Narcoosee's, our fav restaurant.
So, this recent vacation has been eye opening, in terms of being a Mom of kids that are growing up, and then analyzing said World that they are evolving in.  I could talk about so many things here that have stressed me out both individually and globally, when it concerns parenting, but let's just put it this way... I spend an indeterminable time worrying about my kids, and sometimes it feels a bit unhealthy.

One night I was thinking about this, and imagining what my Mom would make of it, and what MY childhood was like, and connecting dots and the like, and I came to the realization that she would have been around 31-years-old, if I were to draw direct chronological parallels, in terms of my children's ages right now, and from what I remember...the bitch did whatever she wanted.  I mean outside of working and paying the bills (which were done by check, mind you, and a ledger.  I shit you not.)  She was an accountant, and she was meticulous about our finances.  It is absolutely a TRAVESTY that I am her daughter.  I literally gained ZERO insight into the financial world while she was alive, except that "We don't have the money."  END QUOTE.

Remember that, y'all?

I just NEVER say that to my kids, even when we don't.  I try to look at things realistically, and frankly, I am at a loss.  There is just so much PRESSURE now, and most times I succumb to it, but every now and then, I say "ENOUGH".  That is a future post, so let's just focus.

Anyway, I've been thinking that I may take over the finances for this VERY reason.

My husband has been threatening for years.  He always wants to "sit down" and show me shit.  But, then when I suggest we "sit down" so that I may show HIM some shit.  He caves like the molten lava cakes my kids just ate on vacation.

EVERAY night, yo'.  We were on the dining plan at Disney World, where they had insisted on desserts with EVERY meal.  No no, not just dinner... breakfast and lunch.  NO, no sides allowed to be substitutions.  Eat a fucking brownie bowl.  This is the happiest place on EARTH!
Yep.  That's my 13-year-old with the signature Mickey Mouse Club hat.  I mean, the expectations to have a good time.  They have GOT to be hot.  They just won't admit it.

OK, let's be REAL.  This blog isn't really about what I originally intended, or is it?  Is it about my vacation or is it about Chi Chi's? Well, if you have ever read this blog, it is about BOTH.  It is an exercise I do, to avoid playing Candy Crush or Words With Friends. Please keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times to avoid having your Mom pinch you when you go to grab the rotating petal at the end of the "It's a Small World" ride when the cameras are "RIGHT THERE!"

My eldest daughter, Hallie, actually asked to see my phone at one point, to my annoyance, of course, and brought up my "Period Tracker" app that displayed "YOUR PERIOD WILL START IN 2 DAYS."

"Umm Hummm," she smiled, nodding her head and showing the other children.

The sight of the verbal altercation in front of my kids and my Dad and Diana. I mean, it is so FUCKING hot.  Look at them, they are miserable.  They just won't admit it.  All in the name of Mickey.

Soon after that, I got in a verbal altercation with another Mom in front of the Castle (I mean, whatevs) because she was fumbling with her camera (camera, right?) and her kids weren't even posing, and I was all, " SMILE".  It's 5000 degrees, and this bitch is standing RIGHT in front of this frame, and she was all, "Oh, IIII'mmmm sorry, am I in YOUR way?"  And then I was all, " You know what?"  Listen, if I EVER start a conversation with you and it begins with "You know what?" (and my ENTIRE family can attest to this) I am about to Fucking LAY into you and you deserve it.  I then I followed up with, "Yes.  Yes, you ARE in my way."

Then, she said something like, " Wellllll, excuuuusssseee ME!" alla Steve Martin.  And then she said, "There's always one in the bunch," as she steppped aside and kept fumbling with her camera.

My kids delivered this entire scenario to me, countless times on vacation, complete with inflection and body language.  They each would play different parts.  Everybody always fought to be the camera lady.  I mean, who wouldn't?

"One of WHOOO in the bunch?" I would retort.  "The one in the bunch that gets shit done in oppressive heat?  The one who ASSERTS herself?  Follow my lead, bitches. It's survival time."

It's funny, your kids get to a certain point, where they have your NUMBER.  But, you also have THEIRS, so it begins this chess game, of sorts.  I mean, you can get mad, or you can laugh, right?  Lately, I don't see much room for any other emotions regarding my children on vacation than THOSE two opposite ends of the spectrum.  I imagine a meter that is broken and only goes to extremes.  THAT, my friends, is what I am like at Disney World.  I vacillate between being excited and hopeless.  In my defense, it was 110 degrees with the heat index, EVERAY GAWDDAMNED DAY!

Couple that with two teens and a child that NEVER runs out of energy, and it is a recipe for disaster.

Mills at Disney, many years ago.  But not really.

Disney is such a weird vacation for me.  It was the first year we had been there since my Mom died.  We went EVERAY year growing up, and really, since I had kids, but it's exhausting because you feel (or at least, I did) like you HAVE to do everything and there is so much to do, that you literally lose that sense of self that allows yourself to take breaks. But it is made even MORE pressurized because you are paying so much and everyone has so many expectations - least of all, which encompass the word "vacation".

Which brings me to my mom started going to the Chi Chi's that opened in the strip mall down from our house EVERAY Friday night with her "bus crowd".

Gimme a break, it was the eighties and gas was scarce, so all the cheap, I mean, "civically-minded" people, in our neighborhood started taking the TARC downtown to work.

Well, they formed this like, weird click of professionals ranging from t.v. production to secretarial work, and they started getting off at the bus stop by the strip mall and drinking as many sweet ad sour heavy margaritas as they could in a two hour period.

And it was this moment in time that my previously tee totaling mother discovered HAPPY HOUR.

I mean, girlfriend did not even come home first. Bitch got OFF at the bus stop 2 blocks away, which we were always reminded of, when she delivered her afternoon call from work to make sure we had made it home and had not simultaneously murdered one another.

Thus, the phrase "GO TO CHI CHI'S" was borne.  And I use the "E" at the end of born to make it more important and rooted in history - like House of Cards and Bruce Jenner's gold medals.  That's a whole different post, I've been ruminating on - waiting for a little more research (aka Kardashian episodes) to complete my thesis.

So Jody started going to Happy Hour, and she had an ABSOLUTE ball, until she encountered the HANGOVER.

"I just don't like how I feel the next day," she confessed, as she lit a cig and then stamped it out after gagging, one Saturday morning after a Chi Chi's bang.  "The PEOPLE have changed," she continued, "and I guess some spouses have grown tired of the routine."

My Dad had stopped meeting her there after like three months because he claimed he didn't like the salsa.

I don't think she was specifically referring to him. I think all of the Douglass Hills and Plainview "better halves" were weary.  But, so was my Mom. She had an occasional "bus party" after that, and even remained close friends with some, but gas prices improved and she bought herself a new candy apple red Mazda RX7 two-seater (to accomodate a family of four, mind you) and she began driving to and from work again.

My Mom was hilarious.  She really was.  Sometimes it was her witty dialogue, which I always anticipated, because she repeated herself a lot, but the TRUE hilarity almost always lay in her actions.

This is the way I remember ours, but I'm probably embellishing, like I do.

My close friends and I refer to "Going to Chi Chi's" when things get too intense with our children and we remind each other to "take a step back".

THAT is what "Going to Chi Chi's" is for me.  When you are literally so involved in your children's lives that it DOMINATES  your behavior, you need to take a page out of my Mother's playbook and get off at the bus stop right before YOURS and remember what it is to be an ADULT.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with putting yourself first and letting your children fly.

When we were at Disney World this last week, it was hotter than HADES, with a 110 degree heat index (How many times have I mentioned the heat? I am trying to establish a motive for my behavior.) and my older kids were putting all kinds of pressure on me to go to three parks, I just let them go.

They had become familiar with the whole transportation system, and I was just simply DONE, and I let them go and went to dinner with my Dad and Diana and Brad and Eva.  It was GLORIOUS.

We were able to keep tabs on them via text and they sent us pictures and everybody was happy.

I guess my point is this...don't be afraid to go to Chi Chi's once in a while.  This train we call parenting has just left the station. It's a nail biter, for sure, but you HAVE to let them go, once in a while - for YOU and for THEM.

Everybody knows that chick on their dorm floor that wasn't allowed to do anything growing up, that positively LOST HER MIND in college.

I feel like freedom is not a state of mind anymore, when you are a parent.  You are not allowed to put yourself first.  It's all about your kids and their activities and their moods and their meals.

Maybe it is just the summer, and I am constantly with my kids, and although we are extremely close, I find myself looking for Exit signs.  Does that make sense?  Just a little sliver of remembering what it is like to be an adult and allowing yourself the opportunity to be with other adults of the same mind and body, and remembering what it is like to be totally uninhibited or irresponsible.

I feel SURE that Jody thoroughly enjoyed her newly discovered Happy Hours, even though it made her Saturday mornings HELL.  She soon replaced them with buying Madame Alexander dolls at flea markets, which tended to make her only feel bloated from the hot dogs, which was WAY better than a sour stomach.

Let's go to Chi Chi's, y'all...collectively or individually.  The next time your best friend is yammering on about how the line up in softball is unfair, or that her child's swim coach didn't put him in enough events - take a deep breath, listen to yourself, and then get off the bus at Chi Chi's, where selfish dreams come true - at least every Friday from 5-7 pm.

Or as my tennis partner said one Wednesday match morning, (we'll just call her Christina Mckenna, because that is her name) "Tuesday is MY night."

"Why, Tuesday?" I ask, innocently, because she has a Chi Chi's frequent flyer account.

"Because weekends are for pussies.  Now let's play.  Bring your A game."

She's the Mick to my Keith.

So, I digress.  Go to Chi Chi's on a Tuesday.  Go there MIDDAY, hookers!

GUIDANCE: Actually, Hudson 29 has an AWESOME Happy Hour, 4-6, I think it is.  If you are an early bird like Brad and I are, it will totally work in your favor.  Specially priced apps and signature drinks are abound.  On Sundays, they have HALF-PRICED bottles of wine, yo'!

That way you can TOTALLY get back in time to check your kids Instagram accounts and then parent accordingly.

Good luck!  And I'll see you at the bus stop!

This is how the Chi Chi's from my childhood looked for, like, ten years after it closed.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

The Pancreatic Roast

Okay, soooo last Friday, I issued a challenge to all of you to ROAST me in the name of Pancreatic Cancer and friendship, as it is the one year anniversary of our friend, Kim Whybrew's surgery.  I could not for the life of me figure out how to work the financial end, but I think that we came up with a good solution.
One year ago today.

So, without further adieu, I introduce to you CINDY TZAGOURNIS, guest blogger and ROAST HOST.  Oh my GAWD, writing a blog WITH someone is a lot less lonely than writing it alone.  Too bad she's so sleepy.  I have about a 45 minute window, here before she expires right next to me.

Her choice

My choice.

So here goes...

Really? How did I get this gig? I would do anything for you ,Kim, and gladly roast our girl Johnna - the material is endless! But strangely enough, this is not my thing. Well here it goes, Johnna Underwood... what can I say.  You crazy.  My kind a crazy. Raw, smart, raunchy, sarcastic, emotional, hilarious, creative...wait this is a roast right? Let me focus on the bad stuff, or at least embarrassing.

Can I start with your crotch sniffing dogs? Without fail, every time I'm at your place your dog (whether they are Elaine or Scarlett) zeros in on my lady parts and remains in the area until I leave (the next day). Regardless of my attire - white jeans, skirt, bikini (lol)- I am literally ravaged and humiliated while Johnna screams at the dog to "STOP DAMMIT!" Then, she quickly forgets about me, turns her cheek and laughs as the dog lurches toward my unmentionables...goodtimes.

Okay, I'm warming up now. Can I chat about our Famous Dirty Christmas Cookie exchange? Seriously... classic Johnna. A party where you are invited to have the privilege to bake 4 dozen Christmas cookies, make an appetizer, bring a gift, maybe a breakfast casserole for the morning and if you are lucky get asked to be the entertainment.
Like she eatin' those cookies.  Bitch, puleeez.

Wait...this sounds like I'm putting on the party? Oh yeah and when you fall asleep at 10pm your friends take demoralizing pics of you with a double chin.... Merry Christmas.

Good Morgin'

This blog would not be complete without mention of her overzealous intrusion into my sacred bathtub. I can't remember exactly how this went down but somehow we ended up back at my place, shortly after moving in. After having clearly had a few too many spirits that evening, Johnna decided she should stay the night. I know that seems responsible, but that is not my intention, nor hers.  Johnna loves sleepovers and invading your space and borrowing your things...especially if they are nicer than hers.

Me " Johnna can I get you some Jammies?"
Her " Yes you can and fill up that bathtub and get me some bubbles I'm takin a Bath!"
Me  " Oh well then ok let me get you a towel ma'am"

She stripped it down and dove in.

Her" ahhhh this is great, Can you grab me a glass of wine? Thanks girl"

Yep thats Johnna. If anyone else did that it would be so weird but with Johnna Totally normal.

  I truly could get much more graphic and tell story after story but I need to refrain. I got Kids!

  This guest blog gig is all about our girl Kim. Ive known Kim and Johnna for as long as Ive lived in the U.S.A. 25 years! That's a long time and I have 25 years of memories that mostly make me laugh til my stomach aches. My life has been blessed with a lifetime of laughter with my ladies that help me escape the realities of the daily grind. One of my ladies as you know Kim Whybrew has courageously battled her fight with pancreatic cancer. It's been one year since Kim had surgery to remove the cancer and Johnna and I want to in some way help fight this cancer, while giving her a laugh on what could be a stressful day.

OK.  The commitment part of the blog...Johnna and I and HARBOR YOGA are putting on a Fundraiser for Kim and Pancreatic Cancer at 7pm on May 15th.  We will go out for drinks and apps after.


Sign up online and let's fill all the slots.  Any donations appreciated.  Let's celebrate Kim and raise some money for Pancreatic Cancer Research!

The direct link to the Pancreatic Cancer Fundraiser for Kim is  THANKS TO ALL!!!!

I'm serious, Hookers.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

The Proposition

Just think of the EXPOSURE, douchebags!
Some of you have been waiting for this opportunity all your lives!

So I've been mulling around like two things lately, concerning this blog.  One, is to invite guest bloggers because I have been trying to get my writing going again, but I committed to a couple of things that are out of my wheelhouse, like Mystery Reader and lunchroom monitor, and like I don't have TIIIIIIIMMMMMEEE for this horseshit.

My second thing I have been contemplating is that it is almost my friend, Kim's "anniversary" of  her surgery (what a fucking misuse of THAT word, right?)' and I want to do something momentous and fun for it, that takes her (and her family's) mind off it all.

For those who don't know what I am talking about, you will have to look up the post on my blog. Providing a link would simply be too taxing.

Of course, Cindy is in the middle.

For those of you who DO know what I am talking about, then, I've been thinking about raising money for the Pancreatic Cancer Foundation (read: Paul and Kim going out to a nice dinner) and well, I just LOOOOVEEE a good ROAST, so my proposition is this....

I could do an online auction of sorts where people PAY to roast me each week and then we give, let's say HALF of it to Kim and Paul, a quarter to me and a quarter to the Pancreatic Research Foundation.

Juuuuussssttt fucking with you (but seriously inbox me if you think this is a good idea).

I could choose say, 10 people, one each week (let's face it yo'  there are a PLETHORA of people out there that would like to tear me apart, even though they are super special to me), post the blog to the individual's page and whoever gets the most shares or likes has to donate a specific amount.

How's THAT for a clustergram? You want to participate, and you want to knock it out if the park, but if you do, then you have to DIG DEEP and donate to something that you are SURE will enable me to skip the country, never to be heard from again.  Hilarious.  Who's IN, ballers?

Another avenue is INVITE 5 - 10 people, (I'm getting skittish now and thinking of my ego) people to roast me in my own blog - down in my basement, AAALLLLL authentic, like -  glass of wine, fire  even though it's Spring, and a blanket, windows open, candles lit, music playing with Southern Charm on mute, all while intermittently folding laundry - MINE, I hope.

It would be EXACTLY like those "Mom's Night Out" packages you force your husband to bid on at the PreSchool silent auction, only you don't have to invite anyone, you can wear sweatpants and neglect your hygiene for another day, and you have a free Uber home.

I don't drive anyone but my kids around, as a rule.

You could write a blog and then we'll do this grassroots thing where I have a PayPal account and if you like it, you donate ONE DOLLAR to the PayPal account and if you SHARE it, then you have to donate FIVE DOLLARS.  (I'm gonna be RICH, RICHEY  RICH, y'all!)

It's the bucket challenge, HONOR SYSTEM thing.  I DO NOT want you to donate more.  SURE the transaction probably costs more than the donation, but who the HELL cares? You bitches spend a lot more on a Whole Foods pear.

A third option is for me to get a sponsor who will donate a dollar for every LIKE or whatever.  Unfortunately, CompetitorSwim, Inc. is out of the running.  You don't piss where you eat, folks.

ORRRR, you could each get your OWN sponsor and then the number of likes determines how much they pay.

Can you imagine the sponsors here?  Like strip clubs and auto body shops.  I am imagining each guest blogger's sponsor now and it is not pretty folks.  The company I keep is shady, at best.

This is starting to sound as complicated as the Allergy Walk.  When I first saw the signs, I thought, why don't they just take Zytrec, like my kids do? But then I was told it was more about food allergies, which is a whole different deal and some of my friend's kids have them, so I had better tread lightly. I never got to see them walk, but I am sure the snacks at the end were AWESOME.

Guidance moment:  Zyrtec at night and Nasonex in the morning is the BEST recipe for seasonal allergies. I used to call on ENT's when I was a Pharmaceutical Hooker and they all said 10 years ago that this is the only combo that WERKS.  Both products have been around forever and the Zyrtec tends to make your little ones sleepy.  So, give it at night, if you are so inclined.  Nobody is going to pass judgement on you.  It's indicated on the label.

Anyway, I'm just throwing out ideas, looking for advice (participation AANNNDD approval, I guess) on how to structure this whole deal.


Here is what is to remain constant, though, guest bloggers that are from different parts of my life that I CHOOSE and some way for others, other than myself, to benefit.

I would also like to showcase how funny my friends and family are and GIVE THEM an opportunity to let their light shine, because I BELIEVE they are all underestimating themselves in terms of the literary talent they all share.  If I were a truly BENEVOLENT person, I would let them just tell a story, but if I have not reiterated enough, THIS SHIT IS ALL ABOUT ME, YO'.

The one thread that all of my close friends and family have is that they all give me shit.  They KNOW me.  They are incredible, caring, beautiful human beings, but they will call you out on your bullshit without blinking an eye.  PREACH!

I've written blogs about you guys and then you start getting texts and you have all these social repercussions, and I am sure it is all very frightening to click on my link when your name is unsuspectingly in the title.  But, whatevs, I made you all immortal sooooo... you're welcome.

Now let's turn the tables.  Give everyone your most obnoxious, humiliating stories and quotes you've endured in my presence, and we'll do something good with it, and I can take a FUCKING break, y'all, while simultaneously revitalizing this blog.

I need inspiration and a good laugh, and a reason to put a smile on Kim and Paul's face.  Not that they don't already, just maybe, a WIDER one.

Give me your thoughts in the comments of this blog for a change.  I am doing the 5th grade video and I simply cannot handle jockeying FB right now.

Let's get this party started.  Are you with me?
I cut my hair off, peeps.  Changed my emoji, FIRST THING!

Friday, April 10, 2015

Interpreting Pop Culture and Instagram Tomfoolery they are.

Sooooo I approach social media  and pop culture different than most, I think, and I thought I might enlighten the rest of you.  I finally succumbed to the fact that it has altered our lives forever, and I have decided, like ANY old person would, that I am going to make it my bitch.

The best thing that you can do for yourself when you are old and progress slaps you in the face, is to combat that fact like Brandi Glanville would, and just unleash a full glass of Pinot Grigio that so stuns your competitor that they act in a way that they NEVER would normally in their real life.

Today I was folding laundry like I ALWAYS DO....EVERARY DAY and I decided I was going to commit to the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion - there are parts ONE, TWO, aaannnndd THREE mamas- because it is sooo fucking intense.

Now, three has not aired and is part of my guidance today so, you're welcome.

There was a time in my life that I could not tolerate ANY of the Housewives series.  WELLLL, I'm BACK in the saddle and it, well, it just feels so NATURAL.

I am in constant AWE of all of them, yet, I SEE why they are doing what they are doing - not just to seem RELEVANT, but bitches be payin' their BILLS, y'all.

Brandi Glanville knows EXACTLY what she is doing.  The hilarious thing about her is that on one episode I caught ,she got a big unexpected CHECK and so she went and bought herself a hundred thousand dollar car, which she pulled up and parked right in the circular driveway of her rented home!

GAWD love her!

She is an wax museum lookin' fool after my own heart.
Just upsetting.

Part of the reason these women do this is because they have acquired a lifestyle that they need to afford.  The other reason is absolutely to remain relevant. The third, obscure justification is that it is somehow cathartic, in their botoxed, overfillered minds.  The final reason is that they are just plain crazy, but mostly I think it is for the check and the notoriety.  Now, some are hawking their restaurants and their skinny girl drinks on one level, but on another, there just HAS to be some other motivation because there is just no product in this world that would let me allow myself to go on national television and exploit my personal life and family.  Now, this blog is a totally different thing.  It is partially invented, I curse a lot, I am nuevo riche, wine is constantly being consumed....Wait, sorry, there IS no difference between them and me.  My bad.

Moving on...the act of seeing oneself on television must be mesmerizing.  In today's world, so much is recorded and documented that it must be intoxicating for them to actually be able to rewind a reel and see EXACTLY what happens when you are buzzed and put in a situation where you are bound to be at your WORST. Lisa Rinna, who seems fairly innocuous, was absolutely driven to the BRINK in one episode, so provoked that she threw her wine on another "wife" and not satisfied with that, broke her wine glass on the table like she was christening a boat.  The other housewives were so terrified, they actually ran away from the table and sought shelter outside because of course this all happened in a restaurant in another country.  Are you enticed yet to watch, who wouldn't be?
Klassy! She got her pic in US, though, and thus got her contract renewed.

I think, more than anything else I like to analyze the housewives, not judge them. Analysis is different.  It is detached and does not include pesky morality.  It is all about MOTIVATION and how they each got from where they have been to where they are now.

I make it sort of an intellectual exercise.  I am not allowing reality television to manipulate me, I am using it to make observations to try and understand interpersonal relationships better while also engaging in pop culture, so that I may stay relevant, as well.

That, and I really like Brandi's hair in the reunion episode and I made an appointment to cut all mine off this Monday, like hers, but I am fairly sure her "asymmetrical bob" is not real like her cheek bones and forehead and breasts and it is just "tucked under" as if in a tranny's leotard.  This is upsetting on two fronts - one being that I am trying to emulate something that does not exist and two - I have let reality tv dupe me again, just in a different way.  UGH!  Didn't see that one coming.  I guess I need to find a new hair role model.  Brandi is an imposter, apparently.

Instagram is another fun one for me.  I follow random people : artists, obscure celebrities, comedians, NY club owners, nail polish videos, hair trend videos, L.A. flower arrangers, and then family members and friends.  I am selective who I let into that world because Facebook was all about just "reconnecting" with people, and my Instagram is more personal, and still fun.

I used to like to follow all of my friends' kids, but now I have unfollowed and blocked most adolescents because I don't want to let them into my little world I have created.  Did you realize that people actually care what their Instagram "looks like" in terms of the compilation of photos on their page?  Hallie brought that to my attention.  Apparently, it's supposed to be aesthetically pleasing or some shit.    The level of attention that must be paid is somehow important.  I wish she felt the same about her room.

My emoji. can be FUN!

Anyway, let me share with y'all some of my favorite random posts.  I screen shot them and then send them to my friends via text along with my own emoji that I have created.  These are fun ways to use technology and pop culture, that don't bring you down like self-promoting Facebook posts and the invasive ads you endure when you are trying to watch YouTube videos that creepily advertise products you've researched on the Internet.

Just try to look away.  You can't.  The image is burned in your mind forever.

I sent this one to my friend, Susan.  Should have waited till her birthday today.  Happy Burfday, SUS!!!!

I mean...priceless.

I hate duck lips.  It's weird.

This is probably my all time fav.  You just never know what will be on your feed tomorrow, though.
And that is the joy of it.

In my defense, this was posted by a hilarious Jewish fella, who is responsible for most of these.  I'm obsessed with him.

The caption read:  "When you broke as fuck, but she still believe in yo' dreams." OK. I've got to stop. I could literally do this ALL DAY. 

There is a yin and a yang to everything.  One cannot exist without the other, peeps.  You just HAVE to find the good and the positive, when you feel overwhelmed or disheartened by social media, so that you can appreciate the meaning of it all.  Does that make sense?  YOU ultimately are in control of how you receive the "AGE OF SOCIAL MEDIA".  You do not have to become a slave to it.  Edit the things about it that you do not like, and appreciate the things you have access this, for instance.

Ummm.  Hmmmm.