A life extraordinary

Guys, I did it.

This twenty-five year old has shed the shackles of Facebook.

Effective as of 12:01 a.m., March 1st, 2013, I am no longer a member of the virtual book of faces.

*disclaimer*

This announcement is not intended as a jab to those of us who have faces in the book. I do not present the matter as a better decision than others who are members of the Facebook community. Rather, it was the best decision, for me, and I'll tell you why.

I don't know if this happens to you, it probably doesn't as most households I know have entered the 21st century, and this does not pertain to them.

In the Whitmire household, however, things run a little differently, folks! We run a disengaged ship! And while the term ship is used figuratively, it would also be an apt literal description, as I imagine that those on ships have a similar relationship with technology:

Non existent.

We don't even have a toaster, people!

Growing up, we had dial-up Internet, which slowly segued into DSL, using my sister's college computer from the Stone Age, and that died off into no computer at all.

My mother also was one of the 197 people , worldwide, to ask the government to get her that little black box, that was free, and advertised/endorsed when regular channels were on the way out, this making the box necessary if you were not, (which we were not, dammit), going to upgrade to cable/other forms of television watching.

In fact, Verizon once came to our house, informing us that we were the last (and only) house in the neighborhood not to have switched to at least basic cable.

You can imagine how smoothly that conversation went...

So we have 4 channels. Sometimes 7. We get weird stand up comedy from the 80s and Russian soap operas.

And I read a lot of books. I mean, a lot.

But in all seriousness, I've never been that worse for wear. We rent movies. I like picking movies. I like watching movies that my folks pick, that I would never have otherwise watched.

But I diverge.

I'm that 25 year old, that when I babysat or house sat. The adults would give me the tour, finally rounding on their entertainment system and say something flip like, but you know all about this, I don't even need to tell you what goes on here.

Sweat beading on my temples, was the room getting smaller? I would glance down. Speakers. Tv. Some black box. Apple TV. Netflix. blu-ray. cable. FIOS tv. 6 remotes. Panic would set in.

Um. Actually, we don't have a remote. I'm going to need a talk through...twice...

Nope, write it down. (Shout out to Ryon and Carrie Acey who have directions of how to segue to and from and in between all of their various television interfaces). I graduated from college, I can follow directions!

And no matter how many times we went through it. Inevitably. I would hit some button, get lost, and not knowing how to return, be forced into watching the entire DVD collection of a 9 year old, as I couldn't get back to the cable television.

Fortunately, I happen to like Pixar.

That said. When the opportunity did arise to house sit, I would find myself on the couch on a Friday night, wrapped up in the television. So many options. So many things I needed to watch.
I'd flip between 7 programs
Like I needed them to breathe.

But inevitably, on the second or third night.

My attention would wane.

I'd think. This isn't real.

I'm not doing anything.

I am watching those characters.

Loving.
Pursuing their dreams.
Succeeding.

And I'm drinking wine on a couch flipping between animal planet and how to lose a guy in 10 days.

Um...

and nothing against a good romantic comedy, or nature documentary.

But I would grow antsy. I think it's that I didn't grow up with that stimulation.

Also my father has the energy of a teenager and the ability to sit still of, well, a teenager.

Within five minutes of walking in the house, maybe going downstairs to get a beer,

I would hear the inevitable call, DIZZY, what the heck are you doing?

And where,even, would I have found the time for television?

Between the pinball and the scrabble. The ping pong and bike rides. The field hockey in the backyard, me versus my dad and his golf club.

But I diverge again, back to Facebook.

It's not that I don't like it. Seeing my college and high school friends. Seeing my sweet baby cousins. Keeping up with people.

But, I know who I love. And whether or not I see what they did last Friday night. I'm not going to forget. I'm not going to forget them, and I'm not going to stop loving them.

I've been digging into the Word lately. I'm reading a devotional called Jesus Calling. (Thank you Aunt Suzanne), and it is urging me to be present. To be faithful. And to put my faith in today. Not to be anxious for tomorrow, for the future, and not to be stuck in the past.

If you keep up with my blog you know that both of these, the past, and the future, are weights I carry on my heart.

that said, for me. Right now.

I can't think about babies and engagements and weddings. I can't think about anniversary photos. I don't need to be trolling through albums from my 22nd birthday. Of friends I love dearly that I've known for 18 years. I'm not 22, nor will I ever be again.

That year happened. It happened, it came and it went, and I turn 26 in a month.

It's time to be in the present. It's time to be living, right now. I'm not engaged. Not married. Not in college. Not dating him. Not 22.

I'm 25. I live in Haiti. And I don't have Facebook.

Now.

I'll worry about the future, when it gets here.