Tag Archives: friendship

October 1, 2012

break up sex with alcohol–and a minor miracle

By arlynnpresser

according to the noted philosopher neil sedaka, breaking up is hard to do.  and i have decided to break up with alcohol and it’s rough.  i researched some options.

americans are a congenial, sociable, dyi lot.  so alcoholics anonymous is a very american way of dealing with the breakup.  and i’ve gone to meetings.  unfortunately, i did this when i lived in the small town of winnetka.  by the time i was pulling into my driveway after my first meeting, i was getting phone calls from people who hadn’t been at the meeting but who knew every detail of my story, every tear i ever cried.  what part of anonymous doesn’t exist there?  and besides, aa has a fifteen percent success rate.

if a prescription drug for strep throat had a fifteen percent success rate would the federal drug commission approve it? would you take it? would you give it to your kid?

americans also love their first ladies–dolley madison, jackie kennedy, michele obama. . . and they like honesty.

betty ford, the wife of president gerald ford, was very “i don’t care who knows” about her struggles with alcohol and drug addiction. she opened the betty ford clinic for people with similar issues.  she passed on in 2011 and was one of the most popular first ladies of all time.

trouble is, the betty ford clinic approach (inpatient thirty days) is expensive, my insurance wouldn’t cover much of it, and my premiums would skyrocket.  besides, i didn’t think of myself as quite that bad off.

i stumbled upon a solution.  a drug that’s not generally sold in the united states.  does well in europe and asia–i guess french folks don’t go to meetings which might explain a lot about the european union.

the medicine is taken over the course of eight weeks.  like an ssri antidepressant (think prozac, zoloft, paxil), it works on the brain’s pleasure receptors.  it is meant to cut off the connection between chardonnay and a buzz.  it is, again like an antidepressant, not likely to make any difference for several weeks until a critical level has been dumped into the bloodstream.  unlike antidepressants which stop working once you stop taking them, this drug is supposed to be taken for eight weeks and then you stop.  i suspect the reason one stops at eight weeks is that one is supposed to develop good habits. and keep them.

the first night i took it i drank a martini for the first (and last) time. it was made for me by a facebook friend and i will share the recipe because it was just as good as breakup sex can ever be.

breakup sex martini

you’ll need:  fresh basil leaves, lemon, ice, shaker, vodka, running tap water

cut up and crush the basil leaves with the back of a spoon or a mortar and pestle if your kitchen is well equiped

cut lemon in half

put basil and ice in shaker.  squeeze lemon juice into shaker.   leave the seeds–it lends verisimilitude

add vodka and shake

pour into glasses

when your guest says “i’ve never had a martini.  it’s going to be too strong” retire to the kitchen, run the tap water (not into the glass, silly!) and say”this’ll be okay!

oh, did my head hurt the next day and i felt so discouraged.  i had no home.  my car was in the shop with bald tires and all my clothes.  i felt unmoored and full of self-loathing.  and i wondered if i was an alcoholic and should just resign myself to it.

founded in 1877, the pacific gardens mission in chicago has served homeless and lost souls. i felt like maybe i was lost. really lost. maybe they could help.

still, i dutifully took my medicine.  i went to a lady’s lunch.  the sort where there’s white wine and delicate salads and nobody eats their dessert.  ordinarily, i would have drank my wine, ordered a second glass and then another.  instead, i couldn’t finish the first glass.  i just didn’t want it.  i asked if i could switch to diet coke.

the next day i went to an funeral luncheon.  i started with a glass of white wine and again, said “i don’t really want to finish this”

at saturday dinner, i drank a glass with my meal and then after dinner ordered a glass but didn’t drink any. . .  even though i was paying for it.

does this mean the medicine works and i’m just an early responder to changes in brain chemistry?  i don’t know.  i will find out.  but i have noticed subtle minor tiny miracles that have made me so grateful.

i’m not identifying the drug.  because if it changes my brain chemistry so that i think i’m a dog and i start barking at postal workers, i don’t anyone else to have tried it because of me.  if it works, i’ll let you know.  if it doesn’t work, i just have to think of other options.

i don’t want to be a teetotaler, i don’t want to proselytize, i don’t want to stay in a clinic (unless they have wonderful room service!).  i just want to get to the place where i think i’m just pretty average.

i got the car back (and my clothes!) and aimed south to indianapolis to meet the three eastman sisters, two of whom (julie and susan) are my facebook friends. clare (far right) does not have a facebook account. neither does sophie the dog. i have many friends on facebook who are dogs and one cat.  facebook has been cracking down on accounts held by nonhumans–that is, businesses, spambots, animals, historical figures, and people who have duplicate accounts.

i aim south for louisville, kentucky–home of the colonels and the derby.  why?  to visit a facebook friend of course!  and this one needs a miracle just as badly as me!

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September 25, 2012

sharing is a good thing but . . .

By arlynnpresser

i have a problem with this. when i drink, i sometimes say things i don’t mean, do things i later regret, and even lose relationships i value. so i have to say “goodbye” and really, alcohol, it’s not you, it’s me.

 

i posted about this on facebook as well.  my facebook friends and wordpress friends have been universally supportive.  i have been so lucky.  and then i got to thinking:

since facebook went public, it has been working very hard to show advertisers and investors that its greatest asset is information about its users.  and a mighty big asset.  sure, it’s interesting that you posted psy’s gangnam style video on your wall and that your cat pictures are soooooooooo damn cute.  but there’s a little more to it.  facebook wants to be able to “share” information about users that will predict spending habits, future needs, even weaknesses that can be exploited by corporate america.

facebook is working with a company called datalogix.  datalogix collects information from retailers using customer loyalty cards and combines this information with things like your regular email address, your alma mater, or postal address that show up in other data bases.  datalogix is not some new kid in the data world–it owns information about almost every american household and $1 trillion in consumer transactions. combining information about consumers allows advertising to be targeted very precisely.

i admit to unnatural lust for the diane von furstenberg copa wrap skirt in orchid. datalogix knows this and can even figure out if i  ever purchase it online or offline. and it can also predict what other items i might lust for. but does it know i lust for the white wine? of course.  even if i hadn’t posted about it, i did put a deposit down on a detox program with my credit card.

depending on how you feel about privacy and about sensitive personal issues, you might feel alarmed.  the only fear i have is that blue cross blue shield is going to suddenly raise my premiums or drop me altogether because i’m seeking help.

and then there’s this:  facebook holds a key to your history, your relationships, your emotions and your past. the idea that forgotten private messages might be made public and be prominently displayed for the world to see could be a frightening prospect for many users.  but that’s exactly what’s happened.

facebook has acknowledged reports, mainly from america and europe, claiming that private messages from prior to 2009 have been popping up on people’s walls.  ouch, that morning after passed out on the couch picture from 2008 that you thought nobody would remember is now out there on your timeline.  the company says there’s has been no breach, claiming instead that the messages were merely old public posts revealed again by a bug.  a little hard to decipher.

i guess i don’t believe in privacy anymore.  everyone can find out anything about anyone.  but i also believe in trying very hard to live one’s life with . . .

well, at least i try to!  and if i were to succeed, then i wouldn’t have to care who knows what about me.

 

i am facing an interesting, challenging, terrifying time and i am grateful beyond measure to every friend who has said “i’m with you!”  many many many thanks!

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September 24, 2012

dear alcohol, we need to talk

By arlynnpresser

dear alcohol,

it’s never good when a girl says “we need to talk”.. . . and this isn’t going to be good. but i have to do this.  i really do.

no question, you’ve been there for me all through the years. in cans, in crystal glasses, at parties, at bars, and sometimes when no one else wanted to be with me. best friends forever, you’ve always said!

i went to florida two weeks ago with some high hopes, and i didn’t think you were going to get so . . . . well, aggressive.  i was going to visit with facebook friends in tallahassee, tampa, and orlando.  i was going to bring my dad justin along with me.  we were going to bond.  you were going to be just something i had with dinner–or before flights.

bonding with my father is an ongoing process. he and my mother placed me for adoption when i was three years old. this is a picture of me and my new mother on the morning i was baptized, a few weeks after the adoption became final. i met my father and mother when i was twenty five years old–using a private detective to track them down.

 

the day before the trip, my dad texted me and said he didn’t feel he was up to traveling with me from his place in tallahassee to the other cities in florida.  i would stay with him and his wife on sunday evening, rent a car and sally forth throughout the state, returning on friday to catch a plane back to chicago.

but when i got to florida, i was surprised to discover that my father justin’s wife was going on a business trip.  and that justin was a lot sicker than i had ever imagined.  and that he was undergoing provenge treatment over the course of the week and the clinic wanted someone with him.  that person would be me.

i cancelled all the facebook friend visits outside of tallahassee. my friends were so understanding. i was going to bake a cake with jennifer in tampa and she said “no problem” and made the cake on her own and posted it on my wall. the cake tells the story of my visits to see facebook friends all over the world. thank you jennifer!

 

the first phase of the provenge treatment went well.  justin and i watched television while his blood was taken from one arm, processed through a machine and reinserted (minus white blood cells) into the other.  he was weak, he slept most of the days, he had no appetite.  he slept in the master bedroom, i slept in the guest room.

his wife came home on wednesday evening.  i volunteered to take justin to phase two of his provenge treatment on friday before my flight.  he would be given a very high dose of benadryl and his own white blood cells–new and improved by some mysterious process–would be reintroduced to his body.  he needed to have someone help him get home.  also, it’s just good to have someone be an advocate for your care.  especially since provenge is still in its experimental phase.

justin is actually the first person in tallahassee to get the provenge treatment. it went well, by the way, and he says he feels better. he will get two more treatments.  i’m not sure what happens after that.

the next morning my stepmother’s first words to me were “you need to get a hotel room because i can’t sleep with justin.  he snores and he disturbs my sleep.  he has to sleep in the guest room.”

i felt the hostility.  it’s always been there lurking beneath a surface of tight smiles–and it dates back to the total shock it must have been for her as a newlywed to have me show up saying “hi, i’m justin’s daughter!”  i sympathize.  i really do.

i sat at the dining room table.  she woke justin and an argument ensued between them, with each hushing the other as  if they believed i couldn’t hear.  she wanted me out of there. right then. it went beyond a desire to not sleep with a snorer.  and yes, i heard every word.

i felt rejected, belittled, demeaned, and exactly like a three year old who doesn’t understand why she can’t go home again.  to her real home.  why she has to be thrown away, because that’s what adoption meant to me.

and i would have left right then, walked out of the apartment and said “good luck to you guys”  but i was scared of leaving my dad.  she went to work.  i sat on the couch with him.  i said “this is exactly the horrible feeling that makes me want a drink.”  and he said “me too” and he got up, went to the refrigerator and we drank two beers.  it was nine thirty, alcohol, a little early wouldn’t you say?  but you were there for me.  and for him.

but that feeling, that wretched feeling followed me out of florida, back to illinois, everywhere i am, everywhere i go.  rejected, belittled, a failure, a wreck.  i’ve lost friendships, i’ve lost the respect of people i respect, i’ve lost love–the very things i have always wanted but you’re always there, aren’t you?  ready to console me.  ready to tell me it’s all right.   ready to tell me i’m pretty and witty and funny and i mean something.  and you keep saying you’ll never never leave me and i thought that was a good thing. what i’ve always wanted to hear.

but coming from you, maybe it’s not such a good thing.

i’ve tried breaking up with you before.  white knuckling it.  alcoholics anonymous.  a chinese acupuncturist who also threw in a few extra needles that were supposed to make me lose weight in addition to sobering me up.  nothing worked.  you always came back and always when i really need you and can’t resist you.

this time i’m getting outside help.  i’m scared.  i’m crying right now as i write this.  you have been a reliable friend.  but i can’t do this anymore.  i’m breaking up with you.

and really, it’s not you.  it’s me.

when i made a new years resolution to meet all my facebook friends, i met quite a few who have made the same decision, who have had the breakup talk with you.  some have been successful.  some not so much.  some have done it on their own.  some have needed what i’m about to do.  i hope all my facebook friends, all my friends, all my family can understand.  alcohol, i never meant for our relationship to be so . . . monogamous.

my biological mother gave me this picture when she met me. alcohol, this was a gal with promise and potential and i want to get that back.

 

 

 

 

 

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September 16, 2012

if you don’t have something nice to say. . .

By arlynnpresser

or even if you do . . . . there is always a negative aspect.  which somehow will become all that is remembered.

i left my father in tallahassee and his provenge treatment went well.  i met two new facebook friends–william taylor and ron winegar.  i wasn’t able to meet others i was scheduled to see, most particularly jennifer brand clair from tampa.  jennifer built me a facebook cake to celebrate what would have been our first meeting.

the cake is like an open book, with one page about facebook and twin laptops–hers and mine. the other page has an airplane flying down to florida to meet jennifer. she sent me the cake as an attachment to a message. buttercream frosting doesn’t taste as good when you’re trying to lick it off your screen.

 

i flew from tallahassee to charlotte and from there to chicago–the t.s.a. were definitely more attentive and they’ve implemented the “second look” policy at the gates.

this morning, i was surprised to find the following article.  i had forgotten that more than a week ago, a reporter called and wanted to talk about my new years resolution to meet all my facebook friends.  he kept focusing his questions on the negative. . . things that went wrong, friendships that weren’t good, unfriending, disaster.  and i think i sound like i am a more negative person than i think i am.

your thoughts?

oh, here’s the link:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/2012/sep/14/unfollow-unfriend-on-facebook-twitter

can i add this to the article? can i tape this to my front door? can i tack this onto the bulletin board at the starbucks? because i think words really affect us.

 

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September 14, 2012

when a cake tells a story!

By arlynnpresser

the trip to florida has not been anything like i expected–and instead of fulfilling my mission of meeting all the facebook friends i know in florida, i spent the week with my father justin.  my father is undergoing a new cancer treatment called provenge.  it is the first time this treatment has been made available in tallahassee.  justin’s wife barbara was on a business trip and not available to go with him for the first phase–when the technician extracts blood over the course of three hours, harvesting white blood cells to be shipped to a laboratory in georgia.

justin’s white blood cells, the fighter leukocytes, will be enhanced in the lab and are being shipped back to tallahassee to be injected back into his body.

 

later this morning,  justin and i will go to the clinic to complete the provenge treatment.  the lab wants him to have a chaperone and in general it’s always a good idea to have an advocate, a helper, someone to make sure you get home safely.  justin’s wife is back from her business trip but she is a professor at florida state university, in charge of a department of three hundred people, and must take a conference call.  otherwise, she would be there for justin.

one of the treats, and it really is a treat, of the florida trip is getting to know my father better.  he and my mother put me up for adoption when i was three years old and i didn’t meet them until i was twenty five.  it is always interesting to spend time with either of them.

but a treat i missed was finally meeting facebook friend jennifer brand clair with whom i have been corresponding.  she and i were going to bake a cake together in her home in tampa.  she bakes cakes for all occasions and could bake one for you too!  but this is what she baked for me–

this cake is a book that i will write about my year and a half of meeting facebook friends. on the left hand page are two computers–mine and jennifer’s–joined by facebook. on the right hand page is a plane traveling to florida, where i will meet her. not this trip, maybe, but next one!

it’s a beautiful story and i have had a beautiful time in florida and i must look at it this way–i have one delicious reason to come back!  thank you jennifer!

 

 

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September 13, 2012

white knights. . . .

By arlynnpresser

i came to florida with my usual mission:  meet facebook friends face to face.  learn from them.   enjoy their avocations, their joys, their fears, and their lives.  and take friendship out from behind the laptop or the cellphone updates and into reality.

but i got a little sidetracked.

my father justin is receiving provenge treatment for cancer. experimental? yes. expensive? try ninety thousand a pop. weird? yeah, they take all your blood out and ship your white blood cells to a lab to be enhanced and reconfigured and then they put those white blood cells back in your body and say “cancer begone!”

 

i arrived in tallahassee and was a bit surprised.  my father’s wife was heading out on a business trip and asked me to take him to his first appointment the next day.  this required a cancellation of friendship appointments for monday and tuesday but i still figured i could do wednesday.

white blood cells (leukocytes) are the ruthless knights of our bloodstream. they fight diseases–cancer, strep throat, ebola. without them, we are without defense. tomorrow (friday) my father’s white blood cells–with new shields and swords–will be reintroduced to his body.

 

my father was feeling poorly and i cancelled the rest of the week’s travels through orlando, spring hill, tampa–but two facebook friends stopped by tallahassee to take me to lunch.  bill taylor, who lives in the city, and ron winegar who drove in from panama city.  the distraction was a great gift!

tomorrow i will take justin to his appointment to get back those white blood cells back into his system and then. . . alas, i’ll try to make it out of the state of florida!

 

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September 9, 2012

the absolute worst thing about meeting my facebook friends. . .

By arlynnpresser

t.s.a.

i made a new years resolution to meet all 325 of my facebook friends. in the year 2011 alone, i was on the road 50 out of 52 weeks and probably on close to a hundred flights.  i have continued to meet friends, past the 325 i had as of january 2011.  and today i’m on my way to florida.

the worst thing?  t.s.a.

they have done everything.  they have swabbed me.  they have sequestered me in bullet proof holding cells while they rifle through my bags (really, you have to hold my panties up to the light to be sure there’s not an i.e.d. in them?).  they have pulled me out of the line at the gate in order to do a “random” second search.  they have body patted me, wanded me, and once a female agent told me “i’m going to start at each of your ankles and move up your legs until i meet resistance.”  i said “isn’t that an r. kelly song?”  and when she was done, she said “nice brazilian.”

and every once in a while, when our citizenry is quiescent, the t.s.a. adds a new level of weird.  they’re now testing liquids a traveler has already purchased (at a really jacked up price) INSIDE the terminal, after they have passed through the slaughterhouse inspection.  i’ve had inner terminal searches when switching planes, but if someone grabs my pre-flight beer and says “that’s for me, baby!”  i’m not going to be happy.

and it’s the not happy that t.s.a. is now aiming for:  video has emerged of a woman who was approached by t.s.a. at the gate and told she was randomly selected to give up her $5 bottle of water.  she swallowed the remaining water rather than do it.  a bonehead move of rebellion?

by the time a typical traveler has reached the gate, they’ve forgotten there ever were founding fathers who were willing to risk their fortunes, their safety and their lives for freedom. can you imagine one of these dudes having somebody grasp their ankles and feel their way up? can you imagine them stripping down for the right to get on a plane to disneyland? can you imagine them standing by while their six year old cries because t.s.a. has to take apart her barbie backpack?

the woman was using her cellphone to video tape this, and lord knows, i’ve wanted to do that in situations when t.s.a. agents have genuinely scared me.  the video is rough and not very professional.  but one interaction is really clear:

“Let me get this straight,” the woman asks the TSA agent. “this is retaliatory for my attitude, this is not making the airways safer it’s retaliatory.”

“It pretty much definitely is,” the screener responds.

i’ve always thought attitude was the key–that air travelers have to present themselves as meek and unobtrusive.  no joking, no protesting.  but it used to be that you could heave a sigh of relief once you got past security.  no longer.

there is a rumor floating around the internet that t.s.a. is attempting to implement “stop, freeze!” regulations that would make passengers freeze on command, as a group.  anywhere in the airport.  i used to think that was crazy talk.  but maybe the point of security is not to find anything that’s going to hurt us, but rather, to make sure we are a passive lot.  because really, we all have seen ground and flight crew sauntering past the security lines–how come nothing random ever happens to them?

i used to drink the preflight beer because i was worried about the plane crashing.  as we all know, alcohol in your bloodstream is secreted into the air in the form of sweat.  the alcohol has a lower density than regular air, so the alcohol lifts the plane.  you didn’t know how aeronautics works?  the next time you see a woman drinking a big gulp margarita at the chili’s just inside the united terminal, you should say thank you!

now i think they should have preflight beers available BEFORE security.  of course, there’s another way:

no need for an inflight movie!  and can i get a tan while i’m in here?

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September 7, 2012

i don’t want to “like” mitt or barack. . . . with socialfixer.com i don’t have to!

By arlynnpresser

i will be in charlotte and in tampa next week, but i seemed to have missed my opportunity to pick up swag at the conventions–you know, like baseball hats and bumper stickers and seamus the romney family dog plush toys.

in 1983, with five sons, a wife, some luggage and dog, mitt romney made the decision to put seamus in a dog carrier strapped to to the roof of the car for his 36 hour drive to a family home in ontario. bad political move! and since everybody’s seeing seamus’ mug on facebook, couldn’t we get a better shot of him?

in tampa, i will bake a facebook cake with my facebook friend jennifer. it will be the first time we have met, but i already know i will like her. for real, not just with a click!

 

but missing the conventions doesn’t mean that i won’t have a bit of politics hanging on me like a piece of tissue on my shoe as i leave the ladies’ room.  people everywhere are a little guarded in their comments about the upcoming elections and the ones who aren’t make me go quiet and start counting fibonacci numbers in my head.  while nodding in agreement. zero, one, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty one, uh, thirty four, fifty five, uh, let me think now. . . eighty nine!

on facebook, it can get pretty annoying when somebody posts something to your wall.  it can also make some of your friends start comment wars.

she’s beautiful, she’s witty, and i like her. but roughly half my friends are going to have smoke coming out of their ears if one of my friends posts this on my wall.

so while i intend to vote — and i have a substantial bet with my ex-husband on the outcome of the election–i am here to advise on how to get rid of politics on your facebook page.

1.  install socialfixer.com and figure out the key words you don’t want to see on your page.

2.  status updates:  go to social fixer’s options in the blue bar at the top of your screen, then click filters in the right sidebar. Under matching text, type what you want blocked, looking like this: /romney|obama|republicans|democrats/i. Putting the “i” at the end ensures that the filtered terms aren’t case-sensitive. After that, click hide and save.

3.  links.  we’re so tired of people posting links to their favorite rant, so why should you have to suffer?  go back to options and click add new filter, putting text similar to what you don’t want in the matching selector box a[href*=”obama|romney|republicans|democrats”].  no more see any links that have these words in the URL.  there’s going to be stuff that gets past it, but not so much anymore.

you can use socialfixer.com for all kinds of things like cute/inspirational/puppies or chicago/cubs/aren’t/ever/going/to/win/the/world/series/ever!

 

i just got this on my page this morning. socialfixer won’t get rid of this picture, no matter how handsome he may be, but i’ve been asked to “like” and for all my friends to “like”.  i might like this guy, i might not like this guy, but if he gets reelected i feel honorbound to “like” him. 

 

i think facebook needs a “i respect your opinion and your thoughtfulness in sharing” button!

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September 4, 2012

invite me to your sorority initiation rites because i sorta know the alphabet

By arlynnpresser

when i was twenty five i shopped around for a therapist for all that ails a gal in her quarter life crisis.  anxiety, depression, panic attacks, a touch of the eating disorder.

me at twenty five. fifteen pounds lighter. damn, if i knew now what i didn’t know then, i would have ate more candy, spent my money on pretty dresses and drinks for cute boys, and wouldn’t have bothered with therapy, waxing kits or underwire bras.

so i tried a gestalt therapist.  interviewed a freudian.  did one session with a cognitive psychotherapist.  even got my chakras manifested.  nothing clicked.  nothing seemed particularly helpful.

when i went to a “blended” psychotherapist i remember he asked me a half dozen questions.  one of them was “who is your best friend?”  i said, well, it’s actually two people.  they’re married to each other and i can’t really separate them.  not that i want to. . . and they’re seventy-ish and they’re retired and well they’re like parents to me.  dick and vivian eastman.  he taught me english in college.”

the therapist put down pad and pen and stared at me in that woeful, soulful, doleful sort of way that therapists are wont to.

“don’t you think it’s a sign of a . . . problem . . . that you consider your best friends a couple who separated by so many years from your peers and . . .”

he didn’t get the whole question out before i moved on.  and i never found that perfect therapist.  and, sadly, both dick and vivian passed on a few years ago.  i felt honored that they considered me a friend.

i find it strange that american culture assumes you are friends with people who are roughly your own age.  your own grade.  and i have reached an age at which i am honored particularly by young than me people who consider me their friend.

this weekend i went to visit my facebook friend taylor jordan.  she is not even twenty years old and all the adjectives apply:  beautiful, enthusiastic, energetic, fun!  i am not her best friend but i am included in the circle of people she counts as that word.

i think my facebook friend taylor jordan (on the left) would consider taylor lufkin (on the right) her best friend! they are both in college–he’s going to be a writer, she’s going to teach. this is our wonderful future and i’m so happy for these two!

 

taylor was the eighty-fifth facebook friend i visited last year.  she is the granddaughter of my friend suzanne’s husband.  although i had often interacted with her in the context of seeing my friend suzanne, i had never really spent time with taylor as a friend unto herself.  last year, i went to her school in wisconsin to visit and discovered a way nuanced, intelligent, funny galpal. this year, i went to her school in central illinois.  next week, she is going to join a sorority, but first there’s an initiation rite that i tried to help her with. . . uh, well, maybe i’m not the friend you want at your side when you do that. . .

 

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August 31, 2012

leann rimes, twitter addiction, and my facebook friend marty gerendasy

By arlynnpresser

i’m totally in depression and denial!  leann rimes–the country singer, actress and homewrecker–is in rehab.  quel horreur!  quel surprise!

leann and husband eddie cibrian in happier times. both left their spouses for each other. leann tweets pictures of her bikini clad self, tweets about eddie, tweets more pictures of her bikini clad self, tweets about eddie’s children from his marriage to brandi granville, tweets more of those pictures, and gets into tweet fights with individuals in her fan club. two of those tweet fights were with supporters of eddie’s first wife and they were recorded without leann’s knowledge.  argh, what a mess.  if you tweet a lot does that make you a twit?

 

the reason for her rehab stint?  the publicist’s word is “exhaustion, anxiety and stress” which is, well, what do you think it stands for?

husband eddie has been begging leann to give up twitter.  he is particularly appalled that she allows her twitter life to intersect with her real one–meeting people who follow her on twitter.  she is addicted.  i’m not sure if i am quite so addicted but i do understand and sympathize with her.

still, facebook friend #328 (the 328th facebook friend i’ve met since making my new year’s resolution in january 2011) marty gerendasy makes a habit of seeking out people he wants to meet.  whether through facebook, the newspaper, the internet–he looks for what is interesting.  and i hadn’t realized how long we had been friends.


i wish leann all health and a supportive marriage, friendship and a great career.  and maybe it’s time to put aside the twittering.  but i hope leann doesn’t lose the curiosity about the world and her ability to interact with it.  as for losing her husband. . .

eddie was in the blink and you’ve missed it series “the playboy club” — since i’m not going to post pictures of leann in a bikini, you’ll just have to be titillated by this picture of eddie and his costar laura benanti.

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