When we stopped talking about “blogging” and started talking about “social networks” the only real innovation was that Myspace and then Facebook and others exposed your contact list to your contacts. That’s it, that’s all, that’s the catalyst for the social media revolution – sharing contacts.

My first step in leaving Facebook is collecting all of my friend’s contact information. I couldn’t send most of them a letter if I wanted to. I haven’t maintained a proper address book for a long time; now my contact information is spread across a wide variety of apps where my data is owned by some third party that provides me the service.

I couldn’t find a piece of open source software that did what I wanted, so I wrote my own address book software and shared it on Github. At the time of this blog post, I’ve only had a couple of weeks to work on it. There are enough bugs that wouldn’t recommend anyone other than a Laravel developer to try to use it.

Currently, the app allows your friends to create a contact card with an email address. Once verified by email, your friend can share their contact details with you such as their address, email, birthday, websites, and social media accounts. They will also be able to see your contact details. Future features will provide tagging so than you can group your contacts and restrict what contact details you share with which groups. This will allow you to share your home address with you friends and your business address with your colleagues. On top of this platform I also hope to build a google map integration so you can see all of you contacts on a map at once, a list of upcoming birthdays, the ability to merge accounts should you accidentally create two, proper admin tools to modify shared data, and some other stuff I’m not thinking of.

Most excitingly, I want to make this app federated. If one of my friends decides to run a copy of this app, I will be able to have my copy of the app sync their contact card with fresh data served by their copy of the app’s api. Boom, really simple federation.

Apparently, step 2 of leaving Facebook is coming back to this poor forgotten blog and writing some posts. Or perhaps that’s just part of step 1. Either way, I expect to continue to blog about the process of removing Facebook from my online experience. Truth be told, I’d like to take as many of you with me as I can.

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My father wasn’t much of a “dad” to me in the traditional sense. We never played ball, he didn’t attend any of the my extracurricular activities, etc. If it wasn’t for my brothers, I might not have learned to ride a bike. When it finally came time for the birds and the bees conversation, dad seemed really nervous about it. The memory still makes me laugh a bit.

However, my old man was an amazing father. As a provider and a protector, he took care of his family. He was doing really well for himself in the 80s and decided to go into business for himself. Some bad timing and the total collapse of the oil industry put him into severe debt. My father never took the self pity path, he just got to work. Before he started his own company, he was already the fancy exec as well as company pilot. After his own company failed, the next job he landed was as a fuel truck driver. He worked hard, very hard, to rebuild his career and take care of his family. He took his trashed credit rating, bruised ego, and worked his way to a point where he and my mother are now retired to a beach front home in Mexico.

My dad is a hero to me in this way. It was only more recently that I realized what a hero my mother is as well. I do remember them fighting a bit during the hard times, but they saw it all through. My father grew up without a father, he had no real role model. He left home when he was 16 to escape his abusive mother. To put it lightly, my father wasn’t always the best at being sensitive. Still, through feast and famine, my mother stuck by his side. I know she struggled at times. She went from fancy diamond rings to raising chickens in the back yard so we could survive off of eggs. She could have left, she could have looked for another man. She didn’t, she just jumped in and got her hands dirty too. They’re approaching 40 years of marriage together now.

Everyone likes to talk about what a problem attachment can be. Sure, you could say that my parents are very codependent. (Don’t tell my father that, he won’t like it much.) On the flip side, if you were witness to my life growing up, you could find many brilliant examples of how powerful a dedicated couple can be. My family built the home we lived in through my high school years. My parents lived in that home for over 15 years. We built that home from scratch, all by ourselves. To be completely fair, an extended family member was involved. My mother’s brother Tommy built and installed our kitchen cabinets.

Through thick and thin, my parents never gave up, they never surrendered. I took their bond for granted. I am now 34 years old and am taking on life independently. At least this time I am fortunate in that I’m sharing a living situation with some amazing house mates who feel like family. Maybe there’s a lesson here I have yet to learn before I’ll be ready to meet my own life long partner…

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I brought her flowers on our first date. Turns out, she had a thing for orchids. I introduced her to sushi that night. I even remember the waitress. I used the perks of my job to impress her. I had a parking pass and access to a private basement arcade complete with a soda fountain. I knew she was the one when I heard her get all 4 ghosts in Miss Pacman. We had Amy’s ice cream. I had chocolate and she had vanilla with strawberries chopped in. While we walked down the street, I bumped her lightly with my shoulder. She asked if I did it because I wanted to touch her. I said yes. That night, she kissed me.

I don’t believe I had ever been so happy in my life. The rest of the story you’ll need to ask me in person… It becomes a complicated tragedy.

That was a decade ago. In March of this year, during a trial separation from her husband, all alone, Megan took her own life.

We had no friends in common. I was contacted by a stranger on Facebook who knew her well. He told me about the story of our first date in surprising detail. He was the only person with which I’ve been able to commiserate. He became the only other person I know who understands what made her so beautiful. In his own words, “she was pure light.”

I still have pieces of her artwork tucked away in a box. Tonight I looked at some photos from the last time I saw her (one is attached to this post). I thought about parts of our story I’ve avoided for a very long time. I’ve tried to write a blog post about her countless times during these past 6 months. I haven’t been able to finish one. Megan was always someone I could talk to. She was a true confidant. We’d often chat for hours every day, for months at a time. We had a very deep connection.

The whole of what’s happened in my life since her death is difficult for me to comprehend. I’ve changed my mind about how I’m living my life entirely. I’ve realized more options in life than I thought possible. I’ve started seeing people in different ways. I’ve realized things about myself.

However, in these past 6 months, I’ve also lost my job and my girlfriend. The job loss was unrelated. I’m not so sure about the girlfriend. My first date with that girlfriend was as beautiful, powerful, and unique as the one with Megan. For a year and a half, we made beautiful memories together. She’s gone from my life as well, she will not talk to me or see me. I didn’t always deal with situations the way I would have liked.

Today, I’m stable and healthy. I’m stronger today than I have been in a long time. I’m even fairly happy. Life is pretty good and I think I’ll remember these times well. It all still hurts a bit though.

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For hours, a series of astonishing yet simple realizations pounded my awareness in the most violent of manors. My imagination poured with blood and rage as the most basic and most obviously integrated-bits of information finally formed together into a cohesive perception. The resolution was low and the data loss high, but there was a definite signal lock.

Perhaps it was too faint to know for sure.

This new perception slaughtered what was left of a beautiful feeling stored deep inside my soul. Beautiful, at least, in my attachment to it. A mental room faintly marked with a flicker of hope suddenly has no doors or windows. Not a single spirit remains standing in a space that was once, perhaps, a little crowded. In the center of this room is an alter to trust, resting silently now in pitch black.

And if this is life, if the signal reads clean, then the dream of salvia was not so much a nightmare but rather the reality. In the nightmare, there was nothing beyond I and I was all there is. In this room exists no one now but myself and it has been far too long since I held regular occupancy. Have I ever?

Something about this seems terribly terribly wrong. This gaping hole left in reality where the meaning falls out, into nothing. This can’t be reality? The purity and intensity of the irony would be far too great.

Is the illusion truly that grand? I certainly hope there’s noise in this signal.

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The loss of my Nino as my partner in life was my breaking point. I fell deep into self pity for a while. I have amazing people in my life. Some tolerated my pity party while others gave me just the right direction I needed. Tonight I am extremely content with my life. Furthermore, I’m really excited about my future. I haven’t felt this way in some time.

I’ve had a series of profound realizations about why I am the way I am. They’ve finally come together to form a complete picture that I can work with. The confusion, not understanding why I was doing the things I kept doing, drove me nearly insane. For a while, I could truly see myself going the way of my dear friend Megan.

I have more trials ahead of me. I know what some of them will be. I was scared of them. In particular, I was scared to take them on myself. I realize now, that if I’m going to handle the heavy loads, I need solid ground under my feet. I’m the kind of guy who lives in the clouds. It’s easy for me to float away. I was just making plans to float on off to outter space.

Turns out, there’s a lot of really wonderful people down here on the ground and I just happened to be surrounded by a cluster of some particularly amazing people. I’m proud and grateful to be where I am right now, today. I love my job and my coworkers. I’m proud of the work I’ve done. I love my home and my house mates. I love me, the skills and knowledge I’ve developed, the way I’ve taken care of myself, and the uniqueness that makes me me.

One week ago, I couldn’t sleep or eat. I was begging the universe to give me back the things I lost. Tonight, I don’t miss them. There’s one thing, in particular, that I do hope comes back around, but my reasons are different now.

I’ve lost my fear and am left with nothing but happy. I’ve carried this with me for so long… but I feel like I finally released a demon. This blog entry barely begins to describe the joy.

The post Waking Up appeared first on zasKoda.

As soon as I would begin to debate and argue, I could see immediately that my efforts were at best ineffective, and at worst more damaging. The feminist rhetoric is as powerful as an organized religion and contains a wide variety of deeply emotional justifications for much of the inherent misandry. Once powerful emotions are triggered, a fair and logical discussion grows increasingly difficult if not impossible.

Most recently, I’ve been drawn into Men’s Rights groups. These are, very much, a counter point to feminism. At the core, they have strong talking points. Many of which I recently posted about. In that post, I barely scratched the surface. I am, currently, a strong believer that – if men were privileged in the USA (and I think they were), they are no longer privileged above women. There now exists, as a direct result of the Feminist movement, a significant amount of gender biased law and gender biased government funding putting men at a distinct social disadvantage.

That is my current belief. I may learn more that could show me this is untrue. I invite such knowledge. However, the more time I spent reading content related to the Men’s Rights movement – the less happy I was becoming. I became angry, vengeful, and perhaps even a bit misogynistic. I’m just aware enough to watch the irony of this as it boils up inside of me. While my emotional response may be justified, my instictual response will not help.

I need an outlet for this huge energy. I need an intent to apply this energy to. I believe the Men’s Rights path will ultimately lead, if successful, to the exact same negative outcome created by Feminism. Emotionally, I want to join the fight and stop those that have created suffering for my brothers. Spiritually, I refuse to wage a war on my sisters.

After lots of exploring online tonight, I’ve finally found the term that best fits the intent I wish to adopt, Egalitarianism. I was asked once if I was a Feminist. I had to ask what that would truly mean. Upon hearing the verbage of “equality” in the dialog, I said that I must be a Feminist. Knowing what I know now, I am not a Feminist. Nor am I a masculinists. I am an egalitarian. This is core to who I am, not just regarding gender, but also race and sexuality.

I’m blogging about this as a bit of personal record as to how this word brought me a sense of peace tonight. I like it.

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Texas Flag

I’m the only member of my family born in Texas. My parents, sister, and half-brother’s family all still live in Texas. I currently live in Colorado. Recently, governor Rick Perry started a dialog about Texas leaving the union and now NPR is picking it up. I don’t want to get into the issue of Texas potentially seceding from the nation. The issue is widely misunderstood as Texas holds no right to leave, merely to split into 4 individual states.

As I’ve travelled, I’ve found as much dislike of Texas inside the US as I have for the US in other countries. No where have I found as much anti-Texas attitudes as the snow covered slopes of Colorado. This past season I got in a gondola full of kids who were skipping school. Their entire dialog on the way up was littered with stories about “dumb Texans.” What’s worse is spending enough time on the slopes to see that they’re largely right. When Texans come here on vacation (and they come in flocks), it always makes for a less enjoyable day.

Indeed, there’s plenty to complain about Texas, but I’d like to present a slightly different picture. First of all, Texas history is rather interesting. If you really want to know, take the time to read the Wikipedia entry on Texas. In a nutshell, shortly after Texas managed to win it’s independence from Mexico, it was forced into the US at gunpoint. Those who resisted were jailed. I suspect that the resentment from these events still lingers in the social and cultural undertones all over the state.

Texas is home to some backwoods hillbilly folks still ranting racist remarks and birthing tribes of children. However, Texas is also home to one of the most progressive and forward thinking cities in America – Austin. People tend to forget that Texas is huge. On one end you have swamps and forests of pine trees. On the other end you have sand dunes. A drive from my parent’s house to the beach (all in Texas) takes a full day. You can find just about any caliber of individual somewhere in Texas.

Texas is a rough state. The woods are often filled with things that will bite you or stab you. Texas has cactus, mesquite trees, brambles and bull nettle. Oh, the bull nettle, how it lingers, how it stings. Speaking of poisonous plants, Texas is home of both oak, ivy and even sumac. Not only did Texas get all the poison plants, but all the poison snakes as well. All four poisonous snakes that live in the US can be found in Texas: rattlers, copperheads, water moccasins, and coral snakes.

If you prefer to be eaten rather than poisoned, Texas has bobcats, mountain lions, and wild pigs. And all of these natural dangers combined do not come close to being as agitating as the recent infestation of fire ants. Once you’ve been attacked by fire ants, you’ll be able to spot a mound 30 yards away.

Texas gets pounded by hurricanes on the coast and swept over by tornadoes across the open planes. Droughts are not uncommon in the west and panhandle areas. Then again, having a blizzard drop a dozen feet of snow in the panhandle isn’t particularly uncommon either. A 90 degree February day can easily be followed by a 20 degree day. Summer temperatures over 110 are expected.

Texas challenges you, particularly if you’re living out in the country. Texas can also reward you. With no state income tax and a relatively low cost of living, Texas is the place to go if you need work. While it’s a horrible city to live in, it’s extremely easy to find a job in Houston. Austin is much more difficult, but the city provides a fabulous quality of life. Dallas and Ft Worth land somewhere in the middle on both accounts.

Outside of the city, Texans are – for the most part – extremely friendly. If your car breaks down along side a dirt road, you’re not only likely going to be very safe but also very likely to get a free rescue from some kind soul. Generally speaking, folks help folks out. I’ve lived in many places in Texas and in many states outside of Texas. There are always exceptions and Texas is not without it’s unfriendly and dangerous spots. However, by and large, Texas is one of the friendlier states in the nation.

Finally, the last observation I’d like to submit deals with borders. Being a large border state, Texas gets a lot of influence from Mexico. In fact, as you travel across the US, you can quickly identify a blurring along her borders. States pressed up against the Canadian border tend to sound and act a bit more like Canada. Texas, being pressed up against Mexico, feels like a transition point into another country. While this may come as no surprise, it can be an interesting experience once you’ve observed it for yourself.

If you’re part of the Texas dialog right now, I recommend going there. Spend some time, it’s a big place and will take a little while to get to know.

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In other news, I haven’t been getting out nearly enough. I had to take a business trip to Dundee last week. It’s been nearly 2 weeks since I’ve been on the snow and it’s making me sad. Not sure if I’ve blogged about it before, but I’ve just come out of a stint of “self employment” and am once again “working for the man”…. This whole 40 hours a week in the office thing gets in the way of my play time. Not cool.

The hardest part is seeing the snow reports lately. This season has lacked snowfall. It was only recently that I started seeing 6 & 8 inch overnight reports. With as few powder days as we’ve had this season, I hate to miss one. Luckily, next weekend will bring 3 much needed days of riding down in Wolf Creek. Hooray!

The attached photo was snapped on a hike at Walker Ranch. There was a bit of snow covering some of the tails, but overall it was warm. I wore shorts and took my hoodie off from time to time. There were a number of mountain bikes out on the trails. For the mixture of choice, value and capability, the Wisper ebike range is amongst the best on the market today. It’s definitely a sign that the weather is unseasonably warm here. I may have to move further north. I hear good things about Whistler.

Now, I say that… but the idea of switching to surfing keeps poking at the back of my mind. I keep digging through photos of Sayulita and dreaming of living near the beach for a while. I could give up snowboarding for a few seasons if I could surf in my back yard. In terms of snowboarding, I feel myself getting closer to reaching a plateau. I’d like to master the 360 and get some deep powder / back country experience under my belt. Beyond that, I don’t expect to progress much further. However, I’m so extremely new to surfing that I’ve got everything left to learn. All I’ve done is catch a few rollers on a longboard.

Either way, I hope to spend less time in an office soon.

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