When the Ozman was little (okay, younger. Oz was never little. Dude gave me carpal tunnel when I had to cart him around in his baby seat. I’ve never been so happy to see a toddler toddle in all my life) he would suck on his fingers, hook’em horns style. It was pretty cute but braces are in his immediate future so maybe not so useful.

Oz also liked to talk. Basically from day one. Which meant that when he was sitting in the back seat in his little car seat, mouth full of fingers and wanting to hold a conversation without really knowing words; well, talks could be a little interesting. Some days I’d just go through which errands we’re running or where Sissy and Zac were needing to be to keep conversation flowing. He’d garble back something I couldn’t understand and that’s how we’d spend our car time. Worked for us.

Eventually, as he approached year 2, his garbling started to make sense and we started having real conversations. There were times; however; were I still couldn’t understand what he was saying and I’d say, Whatcha talkin bout Willis? Well, toddlin’ Oz didn’t like that much and he would WHIP his head around (he loved watching out the car window); dramatically pull his fingers out of his mouth and declare, “I ARE NOT WILLIS!” 

Ya, it was pretty adorbs. Enough that we’d say it just to get that reaction. I think he was around four where he finally caught on and would just roll his eyes and keep looking out the window. Damn, how was I going to have fun NOW?????

This entire exchange came to mind the other day when my FB got trolled. It was bizarro world.

See, here’s the deal. My Facebook page has some very important functions to serve. Blog post shares; food and drink pics; fun shit that friends (like, real friends. People I actually know and have a relationship with) like to put on there; dog pictures; family fun; lifting shit; competition updates or results; travel pics, and lastly, the occasional rant (okay, probably more regular than occasional but I do try to balance them out with dog pics.) FoShizzle.

Now, at any given time, there will be a handful of CLOSE, REAL FRIENDS who understand where that rant comes from. There will be the rest of the FB community that doesn’t but that’s okay. Sure, it may seem ambiguous (remember the Ambiguous Gay Duo on SNL back in the day? I miss SNL when it was funny. Hasn’t been for years) but that’s okay. It’s okay not to understand the intimate details of what’s happening with every single on of your FB contacts. Learn to live with it, you’ll be happier. Believe me!

So imagine my surprise when someone I’ve never even met started trolling one of my rants (that had nothing to do with anyone except who it did and oh, by the way, sparked a conversation that was actually helpful) and wrote on my very own FB page that I pulled out of a very important and prestigious Highland Games because of a previous rant. He even named it, “Rant 1.”

Uhhhhhhh, dude I don’t know, you’d have to go back years to find “Rant 1.” I know cuz now we get those ‘FB memories’ thingies each day and I see rants from 2008. It’s pretty fun to see what was annoying me back in 2008. Surprisingly, rants haven’t changed much.

So, according to this person I’ve never met, ‘Rant 1’ caused me to pull out of a Highland Games. Huh. Doesn’t sound like me? I’ve seen other people pull out of Highland Games, I don’t recall them getting trolled and accused by people they’d never met as to why they did. I pulled out of a Games my first year because at that time, we couldn’t afford to go. I’m not ashamed of that. I was honest with the AD and he was very understanding. In fact, the other two times I’ve pulled out of Games I was very honest with the AD’s and they seemed very understanding. I don’t hide, I just don’t choose to share reasons with people I don’t know and aren’t affected by my pulling out of said Games. That seems logical to me. I guess I could be off. But prolly not.

So let’s just set the record straight here. A) I rant. I’m not the only one. I’ve unfollowed good friends on their FB pages right now because they are ranting so much political rubbish that I. Just. Can’t. Does that make me unlike them in real life? Nope. Love’em. Just don’t want to read their shit right now. Feel free to reciprocate. I won’t be hurt. There are a lot of people I really admire and enjoy in person but don’t have them on the FB. See how we all survive?

2. I’ve said this before and I guess I’ll have to say it again: Chances are strong that something on my FB page has nothing to do with you. So while it won’t make sense to you, that’s okay. I’m over here just having a good rant and suddenly you need to bully me into making it make sense to YOU. Ummm, noooooo. That’s not what it was for. Again, there were a handful of us that it made sense to, you’re not one of them. That’s okay. (And yes, bully. I’ve thrown that word around one time on my FB. Hell, you KNOW when my husband gets involved on a thread you’ve crossed a line. That’s happened a mere ONE time in our history of together. Pay attention.) There probably are many ways my life doesn’t make sense to you. Gee whiz, I’m so okay with that. I guess the difference is that I don’t troll your social media and call you out on when your life doesn’t make sense to me. Don’t care. Doesn’t change the fact that I want you to come over and share food and drinks and laughter.

C. And this one is the most important so hear it in ‘thunder.’ IT’S FACEBOOK. CHILLAXE. IT’S FACEBOOK. My goodness. People I adore post recipes of shitty food (not just ‘taste’ shitty but really shitty for you) and I don’t take it personally. (Other friends post scrumptious recipes so the world balances itself out.) Some people post things I completely and categorically disagree with. Doesn’t affect my day whatsoever.

What affects my day is when you think you know me and want to publicly post on my social media personal details which 1. are so wrong you look like a stupid person and B) none of your business. That slightly affects my day and then you upset my hubs who is busy driving from Philly to BFE Jersey and is getting so elevated at stupid people harassing his wife that he has to pull over and tell them to STFU (and they still don’t. Uhhhhh  bye Felecia-don’t ever wonder why.) I think this paragraph could be listed as a rant, don’t try to number it, you’d be wrong. You’re missing rants that aren’t even on FB so your numbering is off. Imperfect numbering annoys me. I think I’ll write a rant about it.

Forget what hurt you, but never forget what it taught you.