A Strange Thing Happened On The Internet Today

I suppose these things happen all of the time now that the world is not so small ... but this one caught me off guard.

I was accepting an invitation to connect from a co-worker on LinkedIn, and clicked on one of those "people you may know" links. Up came Christo Gonzales ... better known to me as Doggy Bloggy ... one of my favorite trolls (I wrote about him here and here). To say he was a pain in my ass would be an understatement. He frequently trolled this blog, and threatened to "out" me on numerous occasions.

So ... I thought to myself, I wonder what Doggy Bloggy is doing these days, since he's popping up on my LinkedIn, and you know what I found out?

HE'S DEAD!!

Now, I know people die all of the time, but it's just a little weird when someone who caused so much grief in your on-line life turns up dead.

Even more strange?

When you start reading the tribute posts (here, here, and here) from others who knew him online (he was better known as ChezWhat? to most others).

He was a father, a husband, and an asshole.

Like so many people online, there were two very different Christo's ... the one who was clearly a good friend and inspiration to many, and the one who felt compelled to stalk my blog and leave very nasty comments ... sometimes 50+ harassing, demeaning, and concerning comments on a single post, that later I would delete.

I don't know why he did what he did on this blog, and I don't know if I was the only blogger that he did this to, I just know that I knew a very different person than many did.

And I find that very strange ...

Why It's Been 18 Months Since I Got My Hair Cut

I hate getting my hair cut. Okay ... I don't really hate getting my hair cut ... I hate going to a salon to get my hair cut.

Being hypersensitive to so many things, I am often simply in a state of OVERWHELMED. Generally, I feel a whole lot of things at one time, and am often unable to distinguish what those things are, let alone what caused them in the first place.

I began to realize that I hated going to the salon to get my hair cut when Mike and I moved. I had a hairdresser in Podunk - she had a "station" in her home - it was comfortable. 

When we moved to NOT PODUNK, I became aware that I was putting off going to the salon. I knew that I needed a haircut – my hair was getting more and more unmanageable as it grew longer, and I really wanted to get it cut, but the thought of finding someone new to cut it was beyond daunting.

I gave in and made an appointment at a salon less than a mile a way. The stylist was "acceptable" (too much small talk, but manageable) and the salon wasn't overwhelming ... until THE DAY.

THE DAY was a Saturday (first mistake). I made an appointment for a cut and color. My stylist cut my hair, sent me to the "color station" for my color (she mixed the color, but someone else applied it - STRANGER DANGER) and then?? Yet another person rinsed out the color and said, "Do you know where to go now?"

I assumed I was going back to my stylist's station to get my hair dried/styled, so responded, "Yes!"

... and then I went back to my stylist's station

... and waited

... and waited

... and waited

Thirty-ish minutes later, someone else stopped by my stylist's station to let me know that I could dry my own hair and/or use any of her products.The implication was that I needed to go.

I immediately got up and went to the front desk to pay.

I was in a full blown anxiety attack

Logically, there didn’t seem any reason for anxiety - a haircut at the salon is supposed to be a nice thing – a treat - a pampering. 

What I've realized since this visit is that going to the salon HURTS. Not in a physical way, but rather in an emotional way. 

The smells - the noise - the societal expectations - they are painful. I cannot go back to that salon, and now? I cannot force myself to find a new salon.

What will the expectations be there?

I just can't ...

Suicide is man's way of telling God, 'You can't fire me - I quit.' ~ Bill Maher

27 years ago ...

It seems I should have let it go - moved on

But still, the images - the feelings - the sounds - the smells - they stay strong

It was the day my naivety was lost

The day I knew that "I love you" didn't mean "I'll always be here for you"

The day it was reinforced that I would never be "good enough"

How I wish it didn't still have such a grasp on me