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#100DaysOfHopper Day 25-26

22 & 24 have vanished

Day 25: I know Facebook can sometimes give false impressions, but many times it tells a much more honest story of the event described or depicted. I find that social media feeds self absorption more than anything else, in some cases, creating a type of psychosis.

I've noticed this trend of people attending events as major as a wedding and as minor as a family barbecue and spending the entire day taking pictures, videos and adding commentary throughout the day or right after. That's fine, beautiful and warranted in a way, except in one aspect. It's all about them.

Listen, if your at a wedding and you bought a new dress that show off all your assets, snap a pic. You're like me and wear a tie twice a year, fine. What I don't get is these photo montages of a day long event and there are fourty pics of you throwing up duck-faced peace signs in the bathroom, while there are two, maybe three of the bride and groom. Nobody cares about you and your new beau while you're attending little Joe's 5th grade graduation. Your little princess looks adorable at her dance recital, so stop clicking pics of yourself with her best friends hot mom. It's not about you.

It's one thing if your bored and hate the kid having a Bar Mitzah, but if you have any respect for the person, take a photo of them for them of your memories. I truly wonder if some people just simply forget what they look like or if they are that self centered that their own child's events are secondary to them receiving six likes and a "hawt" from the person they dated in high school. When you stop being the center of your own universe, you may then see how bright the stars really are. #100DaysOfHopper
 Day 26: I'm reminded of the late Charles Barsotti, cartoonist for The New Yorker, whose classic cartoon, featured a clown holding a phone, with the caption "So what's the second best medicine?"

Yesterday, while hanging out with great people, someone said something so incredibly funny, I felt faint from laughter. At the time, it was wonderful. A few minutes of escapism. Every one of life's torments whisked away by that feeling of pleasure. It carried over and as my social night ended and I retreated home, it's effects were gone.

As I said my goodbyes and descended down the hill towards my house, that numbing pleasure seeped out and the physical pain I endure daily seeped in, immediately killing my mood, like some sort of evil osmosis. By the time I reached my door, fatigue had set in. I grabbed a movie and collapsed onto the bed. Trying valiantly to distract myself with some mental morphine, but it wasn't to be.

A quick look at Facebook and my own pain turned to feelings of guilt and anger. The constant self centered banter as people botched about things completely controllable should they ever take two seconds to listen to others or to stop making themselves number one. Then, as my blood simmered, my body ached and my own selfishness took over, I noticed a post from someone who is never a me first person. It told of a little girl, 14, who had drowned. I stopped and cried.

School is out. An entire summer ahead. Maybe the last without responsibility, leading into a life filled with high school, college, jobs, boyfriends, adventures, marriage, kids and grandkids. All that, gone. The grief for the family, must be the ultimate in what pain feels like. A jolt to the system and the most immense feeling of guilt. My shallow friends wallowing in self pity were to be ignored for the rest of the night. My own pain, unimportant. I didn't know her, but Jenna Nolan's life meant more than a Facebook status looking for attention or pity.

In a few hours, life for me and most I know will go back to normal. I'll lament my woes and I'll read of tight shoes and mean bosses, traffic jams and Spartan races, new cars and old flames. I'll roll my eyes and curse the world. When did it all get so unbearable for us? Well, for the rest of the day, I'm going to think of the Nolan's and just keep my complaints to myself, because I know loss and pain, but I don't know that. #100Daysof Nah, it's not about me today. Respect and condolences.

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