SO….

Hi there.  It’s been a while, right?

It’s been quite a while.

A blog-gabby person went totally silent for quite a while.  But I’m talking again.  Which is a good thing.

I was quiet because I was having a little bit of a quiet battle with depression.

I don’t want to talk about it.

I don’t want to divulge how it affected me or how I am getting through it.

I don’t want to talk about my feelings.

I am stonewalling and that’s all there is to it.

And I need you guys to all be okay with that.  I need you, my friends, to understand that I don’t like talking about things that I view to be a weakness.  (The weird thing is, I don’t see depression as a weakness in other people, just myself.)  I don’t want to be one of the many brave people who battle something hard and come out of it ready to talk and be a beacon of hope for others.  Not on this.

I love to be helpful and I hope that at least once in my life I have made someone feel better about themselves because of something I wrote.  I hope that discussions I have had with people have made them feel more secure and steady on their feet.  I hope I’ve made you smile.

But on this, I need it to be my business.  And I need you to be okay with that and forgive my pig-headed ways.  I need to be able to at least half-believe that my super hero cape is still waving majestically behind me and not torn to shreds and muddied up by this something.  This SOMETHING.

I adore you.  All and any of you who come here to read and converse with me through this sometimes oh so cold medium.

And I’m back.

I am going to assume that none of my readers are unfamiliar with the Rapture craze/joke/drama that happened over the weekend.  In assuming that, my life is made easier by not having to do a backstory and attach a bunch of links so you can read the whole mess.  So from that assumption, my starting point can be:

You and I both know how it went down (umm, it didn’t happen) and while I, myself, made a few little jokes on Facebook about the Rapture supposedly happening on my wedding anniversary, I don’t find the whole situation all that funny.  Especially when the people who believed the thing would actually happen are involved.

Harold Camping is a very very old man.  Harold Camping seems to have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with end-times predictions.  Harold Camping made a really big fucking boo boo.  But that’s his business and I can roll my eyes at him forever now.

My eyes are not rolling so much at the people who believed Camping.  I feel really really bad for some of those people.  Not everybody went to the extremes.  Some people just packed up their families and went on a roadtrip to be in a central place when they all would supposedly be taken up to heaven.  They simply get to deal with a bit of egg on their faces in this aftermath.  The people my heart really cracks open for are the people like Robert Fitzpatrick.  People who sold everything, had their pets euthanized, spent all that they had to “spread the word”.  There are going to be quite a few people really hurting in life.  People left jobs and homes behind.  This isn’t funny.

Even less funny and more disturbing to me is that both Camping and Fitzpatrick are now changing the story a bit.  To people who so firmly believed that May 21 meant something, they could not have been totally wrong.  Their “faith” simply won’t allow it.  So now they have changed their story and are saying that May 21 was a spiritual judgement and that October 21 is actually the day when stuff is going to happen, but not just the Rapture.  Everything is going to happen on that day.  The faithful will get saved and the sinners will get judged, all in that one day.  And apparently, Camping and Fitzpatrick believe WE HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Aside from my initial “Are you fucking kidding me?” reaction, I have to wonder how many people will hang on to this “prophecy” this time around.  I worry how many people so distressed over the impending end of times will try to kill their families and then themselves.  I worry how many people  this will leave destitute and in need of help.  It’s not funny.

If I am at all annoyed or angry, it is at these so called prophets who are a loop in the noose that will kill Christianity as an organized religion.  While I, myself, shy away from religion as an organization, I understand why it can be a good thing and why my own faith has helped me in my life.  The idea is good, it’s the people that make it bad.

This just isn’t all that funny….

Jessie has thrown the gauntlet.  He has stepped up in the arena of Somer fandom.  And he is beating all of you. 

Jessie has built what he calls the Ultimate Somer Fan Page.  Ok, so it’s not a REAL fan page.  If it were a real fan page, it would be full of pictures, trivia, life accomplishments, and desktop wallpapers….all of me.  This page is well….different.  It’s the ultimate stalker page.  If I update a tweet, or a chatter on BlogHer, or a status update on Facebook, you will hear a ping and you will be immediately able to see those updates on this site.  It’s real-time Somer updates!

Are you tired of checking MWC and SMP to see if I’ve updated?  Just go to this site and it will show my latest blog posts on those sites. 

It’s not completely finished yet, but will be soon enough. 

We were sitting at dinner last night eating tacos made from one of those taco kits you get from the grocery store.  I asked Jessie what motivated him to build this site.  I didn’t ask him to build it, had never even considered such a thing.  He just surprised me with it one day.  He replied, “Oh, let’s just say it’s the ultimate fan page and I’m knocking Aschlie and Helen out of the water.” 

Yeah, he totally went there.

I laughed so hard that the contents of my taco ended up on my lap.

In truth, the real reason why he built this site was because he was wanting to learn a new coding language and he was simply doing this as an excuse to get accustomed to it.  If he’d just said that in the first place instead of trying to look all noble and giving, he WOULD have been my ultimate fan.  Now, I don’t know.  I’m feeling a little let down.

I tell you, it’s hell being small peanuts and can’t even trust your own husband to be an ultimate fan.  I must really suck! 

Ah, what the hell.  Let the suckage continue!