I had a really bad day. I wonder if solar flares affect how people treat each other. Probably not. This day is just par for the course when it comes to my family, my extended family.
My nephew hung up on me today for saying that a hacker is commonly believed to be someone who breaks into computer systems. He and his friends might have a different definition for it, but to me, the word still implies something illicit is happening. I actually said to him that I respectfully disagreed with his definition and then the phone went dead. When I called back, my sister apologized to me. I told her that she hadn't hung up on me. I should tell her that I would feel better if he called, if we could work this out. I don't like how he's behaving and I don't want to condone it. There are too many people in this world who believe that they are better than the rest of us. They freely cut in line, drive on the shoulder to get around, honk when I turn into my driveway. I don't want to be around these people. I don't want my nephew to be one of these people either.
Worse than worrying over my nephew, my brother had a stint put into his heart last Thursday and my mother failed to mention it for the first forty-five minutes of our conversation today. I'm not quite sure how she didn't call me on Thursday. Actually, I don't understand how no one from my family called about this. There were cheerful birthday messages to me but nothing that said they needed to talk to me about anything else. Maybe that's what my sister should have been apologizing about. It hurts that they think I wouldn't care to know about something like that, that something as trivial as a birthday would be more important to me. It aches.
My feet hurt from the walk I took with Teddy this afternoon. Mike and Nick went with the Boy Scouts to a movie, so I went for a long walk to mull over my family predicament. I walked longer than I usually do. I needed to. How is it that these things shouldn't hurt?
As I walked, I created a new category of people. I need to tell my nephew about us. We are called the well-armed thieves. Now it doesn't mean what you might believe it to mean. Everyone in the group has arms. We have legs as well, but we don't feel the need to mention that. Our arms are used for just about everything, from hugging people to holding a fork. As for thieves, we are a sweet bunch of people and will steal your hearts and a little bit of your time. We like to chat, so that explains the loss of time, but we're also cheerful and generous and ... You believed we were stealing from 7-11s and ATM machines? No. You don't have any right to believe that. Our definition is our own and you don't get to control it. You shouldn't worry that our group's mission would be misconstrued. It won't. We have defined it.
I wonder if my nephew would even listen to an argument such as this. I was just trying to warn him against using a term to describe himself that could be interpreted as illegal and morally wrong.
As for my brother's situation, it hurts. I just can't tell you more about this right now, because it is just so complicated. My family, the one I grew up in, is so complicated that it aches.
Thank you for listening, jb
My nephew hung up on me today for saying that a hacker is commonly believed to be someone who breaks into computer systems. He and his friends might have a different definition for it, but to me, the word still implies something illicit is happening. I actually said to him that I respectfully disagreed with his definition and then the phone went dead. When I called back, my sister apologized to me. I told her that she hadn't hung up on me. I should tell her that I would feel better if he called, if we could work this out. I don't like how he's behaving and I don't want to condone it. There are too many people in this world who believe that they are better than the rest of us. They freely cut in line, drive on the shoulder to get around, honk when I turn into my driveway. I don't want to be around these people. I don't want my nephew to be one of these people either.
Worse than worrying over my nephew, my brother had a stint put into his heart last Thursday and my mother failed to mention it for the first forty-five minutes of our conversation today. I'm not quite sure how she didn't call me on Thursday. Actually, I don't understand how no one from my family called about this. There were cheerful birthday messages to me but nothing that said they needed to talk to me about anything else. Maybe that's what my sister should have been apologizing about. It hurts that they think I wouldn't care to know about something like that, that something as trivial as a birthday would be more important to me. It aches.
My feet hurt from the walk I took with Teddy this afternoon. Mike and Nick went with the Boy Scouts to a movie, so I went for a long walk to mull over my family predicament. I walked longer than I usually do. I needed to. How is it that these things shouldn't hurt?
As I walked, I created a new category of people. I need to tell my nephew about us. We are called the well-armed thieves. Now it doesn't mean what you might believe it to mean. Everyone in the group has arms. We have legs as well, but we don't feel the need to mention that. Our arms are used for just about everything, from hugging people to holding a fork. As for thieves, we are a sweet bunch of people and will steal your hearts and a little bit of your time. We like to chat, so that explains the loss of time, but we're also cheerful and generous and ... You believed we were stealing from 7-11s and ATM machines? No. You don't have any right to believe that. Our definition is our own and you don't get to control it. You shouldn't worry that our group's mission would be misconstrued. It won't. We have defined it.
I wonder if my nephew would even listen to an argument such as this. I was just trying to warn him against using a term to describe himself that could be interpreted as illegal and morally wrong.
As for my brother's situation, it hurts. I just can't tell you more about this right now, because it is just so complicated. My family, the one I grew up in, is so complicated that it aches.
Thank you for listening, jb
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