Too. Much. Internets.

I cannot believe I have not updated this page since December. That is such a shame because really, I have so much to share. It has been a busy year with lots of changes and I haven’t seen much free time to do the things I love, like writing. I have actually picked up new interests and hobbies that in turn, give me even more to write about. I vow to make time! I have a backlog of recipes and the conclusion of my smoking days post that languishes half written, waiting to be published. When my work emails and IMs start resembling award-worthy prose, I know that its been far too long since I sat down and had a good writing session.

I finally had some time last night to spend a few hours catching up on some reading. I struck Internet gold, and now all I want to do is share and discuss a few of these pieces I discovered. The web can truly be an enchanting place…

I Know Where Your Cat Lives

First up, let’s discuss “I Know Where Your Cat Lives,” which is the best and also the worst place on the Internet. So backstory: I am one of those paranoids who don’t let my own best friends check me into a place ever. My desire to remain unfindable out on a Friday night far outweighs my desire to appear popular and well-traveled to my Facebook friendsphere. My BFFs are under strict orders to never, ever check Nette F in anywhere and also not to post pics of me whilst we are out enjoying the night or on vacation because so-help-me, I do NOT want anyone to know where the hell I am, ever. That you believe that I am home watching C-SPAN and fluffing cat coats every night is something I am one thousand percent comfortable with. I turned geo-tags off my iPhone’s camera immediately upon learning of their existence long ago. But even for the stealthiest tag evader, the long arm of smart phones and social media will often catch up with you and reveal your location anyway.

Here is where IKWYCL comes in, like some sort of devastatingly awesome conundrum. In this creeptastic experiment, one Owen Mundy, Associate Professor at Florida State University, thought it would be fun to scare the wizz out of people like me create a website that pulls the geo-tags from unsuspecting cat parents’ socially posted images from around the globe and posts them on a satellite imagery map complete with the street names and aerial views of each feline’s abode. At once, this is a creative, catchy and ultimately shocking way to demonstrate how simply anyone anywhere can learn your precise location at any time by pulling coding from the photos you post online. He makes an excellent point. There is just no privacy anymore, and that reality even when shrouded in thousands of cats is still enough to make me dive for a Xanax.

PS…Despite being terrified and semi-hyperventilating, I seriously could not peel off my finger from the RANDOM CAT button. It was like Hector Salamanca all over again. But seriously, turn that geo-tag BS off your camera stat.

Late 1970s Time Capsule Town in Canada

Two words put together rarely make me beam the way that time + capsule do. Forget it. I die.

There exists a town which sits untouched and perfectly preserved since the early 1980’s in none other than my long-cited future home of British Columbia, Canada. When I came across this piece on one of my favorite websites, Messy Nessy Chic, my heart literally (not figuratively) fluttered. I have strong nostalgia for anything that reminds me of my childhood, and I have an even stronger fascination with abandon places. I had hit my personal Internet jackpot with this one.

Kitsault rests essentially untouched and completely unspoiled since it’s swift abandonment in the year 1983. The miners for whom the town was established 18 months prior were ordered out by their employer when prices crashed on their metal, and the town has sat undisturbed ever since.

“For 30 years, the town just sat there, as if it was waiting for people to return. Everything is still there and has been strangely well-maintained. The houses still have that same late 1970s decor, books are still in the library, names are still written on a tournament scoreboard at the sports centre.”

Oh, you just stop that right meow! I must go! I must go at once!

Here is another gallery of these unbelievable photos. Notice how the library resembles the one in the Breakfast Club and the stuff of my dreams. Sadly, the town has been purchased privately for $5,000,000, and rumor has it, a bastard oil pipeline will soon slice right through Kitsault. Another perfect place destroyed by greed. For shame!

Evolving Ebola Feels

When I was about 15 years old, I made the irreversible mistake of reading The Hot Zone by Richard Preston for, you know, fun. What? Yes. Weirdo.

Ebola outbreak scenarios have ever since been one of the myriad irrational fears that inevitably pop up over and over in my head after I have awoken from an asthma attack at 3:49 a.m. (The fun never stops!) As such, I have followed with intense interest and grave fear every flare up of the disease since then. There is a current, unprecedented outbreak happening now. Something about this one felt different to me since the beginning, and it turns out, I was right. As the U.S. prepared to bring home two of our own citizens infected with the disease while on a mission trip to West Africa, I sat glued to the internet. Refresh, refresh, refresh. Over and over as I waited to learn their fate, and if others being tested for Ebola in other countries were going to prove they also had been infected. This disease, made from materials of which your worst dreams are weaved, was on its way to the United States for the first time ever.

Over the past week, I have read hundreds of articles, opinion pieces, ignorant comments left by the tin foil hat crew, conspiracy theories (i.e. Obama handmade and then unleashed Ebola to distract from Benghazi!). If you can imagine it, I read it. My panic waxed and my compassion waned. While the panic was normal, the lack of sympathy I was displaying was shockingly out of character.

Within just a few days, I realized that a true liberal and admirer of doing the right thing would want to bring home these Americans who risked their own lives to help others, and that we do have an obligation to stop this disease because if anyone can, it is the United States.

Here are the two articles (plus a discussion with my Dad, who made me think differently than I had been) that brought me to my current position on the matter. Both excellent, both worth a read if you have any serious fears about this situation. The first article was if I wrote every word with my very own pen! Hilarious and informative. The takeaway: wash your paws! The second, after feeling a tad ashamed, whipped m’ass right back into its rightful Liberal shape. That was a close one…

The Paranoid Hypochondriac’s Guide to the Ebola Outbreak 

I’m the head nurse at Emory. This is why we wanted to bring the Ebola patients to the U.S.

Well, this was a nice break from wedding planning! It is Shower Week, so I am getting very excited to see everyone and wear a fun peach dress on Sunday. I hope to be writing more regularly from now on. Thanks for reading!



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