Josh Link, well known in NYC as DJ Missing Link and an old, old friend of mine from back in my raver days, was struck and killed by a car on the Williamsburg Bridge in NYC last night while riding his Vespa.

http://www.observotraffic.com/?m=20090824

http://www.urb.com/permalink/7087/RIP-DJ-Josh-Link-(Explanation-&-Apology).html

Josh was a wonderful individual and I can't believe that this has happened.
I don't even know what to say.

Don't call me baby.

I'm alive. No worries folks.
Things feel like they're on a somewhat even keel at the moment, so let's keep fingers crossed that they stay that way. I'm working my ass off to get rid of the extra accumulated poundage, and I'm sleeping terribly. Give a little, get a little, I guess? I don't know.

I'm heading off to bed, but wanted to drop a quick line on life. <3 Night, kids.

oh. i am really tired.

made $140 first show.
$89 second.

And I'm broken from the feet up.
That's my update. School is great. And I'm going to bed ASAP.

hey remember that time

nah you dont remember

memories aren't reserved for the likes of you and me

instead we're left with the bitter end

remember when death was dancing right ahead of me

right in front of my oncoming car

dodged the bullet that night

but it still claimed a victim

and it still stripped me clean

bareboned and shaking from the nudity

naked truth skip

skip

skipping

along...

the emperor has no clothes

but the garments of grandeur are said to be gorgeous

i wouldn't know

my rose colored goggles mask the memory

block out the uv rays of reality

tired of the sunshine that sweeps through the sky

tired tired tired

we ask why and get no reply

and it's just like that tree that fell down



we never heard it

it never happened



night crawls with cries of criticism

skepticism because if you don't believe me

who will

believe in me

when the dawn draws near

pink sky at night and blue mind at mourning

and the smoke and fog all dissipate

but the pain and fear never abate

never fully fade

fade

fading out...

wasting away and thirsting to death

and there's that word that i remember when

i remember then

i knew it like i knew my own face

backwards and out of place

in that shining mirror

gleaming with cleanliness

while im still unwashed and unsettled

no more will we speak of these things

these words are the keys to my locked up

pent up chained up bent boned being



and we can't have that now

can we



no



held up by the man with the bananas for hands

i was speaking in tongues about far away lands

while he was pressing his peels

he steals glances at me from time to time

when im composing another rhyme

but he doesn't quite know how it feels

to be me to be this to be lost and amiss

struggling with wholeness and the sensation of deaths kiss

it's the only promise that time heals

it's the only glimmer of hope on the horizon line

the only

the one

the sun

moon

starry eyed gazes

of star crossed lovers lost in legacies of lust

swallow down my trust with a gossamer tongue

and i'll breathe easy again

smoke in my lungs and a gun in my hand

im just a hair trigger pull from the fish in the barrel

shooting me up

timelines and hairlines and hate crimes

im fine

im fine

i am

promises promises

never kept to mean a thing

never kept locked inside my secret decoder ring

i'll just sing this little tune and wonders will occur

but it will never bring you back

what can ever bring us back to whole

back home

back where the buffalo roam

where did that come from

and frankly, where did you begin and end

send him away

the emperor's new clothes are shining in the sun

ruffled by the breezes of a thousand muttered things to come

and the threads are all golden

the fineries are silk

and im dancing

dancing

dancing....

i'm twirling in the naked truth

that i am fully exposed

I lost a friend last night at 9pm in a motorcycle accident. A 28 year old man, one of the most real, respectable, honest people I've ever met and connected with, has been taken from his family, his friends, and his future by someone who was ignorant of the law and of their surroundings...

God, I can't...I can't stomach it. I can't wrap my head around all of this. Alvin was one of those people that I instantly bonded with, and one of those people I wish I'd spent more time with. I respected him, I trusted him, and I knew I could trust him to take care of my best friend when I couldn't be there.
I don't understand why god does this. Why?? Why the fuck does God take all these good people from my life? Why? Someone, please, give me a good fucking reason for this, because I can't seem to grasp any kind of understanding in regards to this. I can't believe that a life can be cut short...just like that. In an instant. In a split second. I don't know if I can honestly ever understand that...or handle it. Come to terms with it. Death is something that I will never, ever, be able to handle. Especially when it always seems to be claiming people who had so much more light to shed upon this earth.
I can't even believe this is happening.
Rest in peace, Alvin.
Love you. <3

I'm sitting here doing that whole..."revisit your youth" deal. Where I go through my myspace, my livejournal, my bits and pieces of memories...and I sift through them, like sand through a sieve....so that only the best of the best and the worst of the worst remain. It's painful, it's raw, and most of all..it's real.

Because, see...I thought we had it all. You know? I thought that our friendships were real and beautiful and perfect and true. That there was none of that typical bullshit that bleeds into every other friendship and poisons it with negativity and bad karma....that we were always straight up and honest.

Life is full of lies and liars, and while I used to strive to survive as someone who maintained her honesty and integrity, no matter what, I was still infected. It's warped me. I've turned into someone I didn't plan on becoming, and I don't know if I can place blame solely at your feet, but I sure as hell will throw some fucking mud in your direction.

Sadly enough, though, I still love you. Both of you. I love the memories we have of driving to Boston at 3am with too many people and too many flyers in the car. I love the memories of alcohol induced writings and rantings that were just so fucking out there that I read them now and I can't get a handle on it. I love that we'd get together for dinner on Sundays at a different restaurant every time, and then we'd sit there like fucking food critics or something while we gorged ourselves on crap.

I laugh at the memory of Virginia Beach, where you were carrying my six pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade, and you swung it up over your head and actually expected the bottles to stay in the cardboard carrier.

I laugh and I laugh...until it hurts. Until the burning in my belly that knots with anger becomes a knot of tears, steadily crawling up my throat until I'm crying...

You'll never know my children.

I'll never know yours.

We'll never sit side by side on our porches with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in another, and our dogs at our feet.

You won't see me get married, and hey...you know what? I won't see you get married either.

I didn't make this choice. You did. I don't know...I don't know what the fuck I did. Actually, strike that. I do know what I did. I did the right thing, above all else. I didn't sell anyone out. I didn't lie. I tried to hide the information I had, and you couldn't trust that I would do that, so instead, you tried to save yourself. And I can't hate you for your self-preservation, but goddamn you, I can hate you for hiding it from me. I can hate you for the implications you made. For the fingers you pointed in my direction. For the senseless bullshit that's pushed us so far apart that I haven't seen, nor spoken to you, in three years time.

I don't even know what I'd say to you if I saw you passing me by on the street. I don't know if I could choke out a hello past all of the hurt that ties me in knots. I don't know if I'd be so swamped by memory that I'd forget what was said and done...

I don't know who you are anymore.

But I guess that's okay, because I don't think you have a clue who I was, and what I was worth, from the very beginning. And that just makes me sorry and sad...

And I guess that's what you thought of me from the get go.

I know I recently posted something on either this blog or my Myspace blog regarding Nick Hogan and his asshole father and the entire scandal involving John Graziano, but my god. It only gets worse.

If you haven't seen the news, or read any gossip mags, or if you don't live in 2008 where our lives are constantly filled with the mindless drivel that is the "celebrity," then you won't know much about the whole Nick Hogan (Hulk Hogan's son) & John Graziano tragedy. I don't feel like going into detail, so if you want to know about it, feel free to google that shit and get filled in. However, if you do know about it, read on...

So, John Graziano is said to be in a persistent vegetative state secondary to the Nick Hogan car accident and subsequent head trauma he received. Hearing "persistent vegetative state" and seeing the aftermath of said state are two entirely different things. Head trauma and brain injury are generally internal injuries with superficial exterior wounds. There might be some facial lacerations, bruising, or scalp lacs that require stitches or staples, and even in some cases, there may be skull fractures or facial fractures that heal into funky shapes. Sometimes they might need to remove a part of the skull in order to allow the brain room to swell so they can alleviate intracranial pressure, but that piece of skull is generally embedded in the flesh near your pelvis so that it can be replaced at a later date. Kind of creepy, yes, but it's not horrendous. It's survivable. Even if you're in a persistent vegetative state, you'll still have some of your good looks.

Not John Graziano.

From the looks of it, this kid lost a good portion of his frontal lobe, a portion of his temporal lobe, and a whole lot more. It's no surprise that he's vegetative. In fact, I'm surprised he's alive. I'm surprised he hasn't been overtaken by some kind of...infection or something, because there's seriously a LARGE portion of his fucking brain exposed. It's...jesus christ, it's probably the most disturbing thing I've seen this year, this decade...or perhaps even in this lifetime.

The video that initially aired regarding John Graziano's life was censored so that the public wouldn't be...well...subjected to the imagery of his exposed skull/grey matter. That video is in the link posted below, and describes his current quality of life, of which there is none:

http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid353549946/bctid1612733745

But, like I said, that video is censored. Someone found an actual video of the wound itself. This video is not for the faint of heart, stomach, or mind. It's not pretty. It's not anything except...sad. And disturbing. So here it is:



I just...I can't. Jesus.
This is...I don't even have words now. Ugh.

Lessons learned
moreover lessons untaught
forgotten
and then
shoved down our throats...

A friend of mine is in the hospital with hemorrhaging in his brain. With a lack of sensation below the waist. Unresponsive. On a respirator. In a medically-induced coma. Extremely agitated, screaming, and freaking out when the doctors tried to slowly bring him out of it. With lacerations on his face. With a bolt in his skull. With intracranial pressure slowly climbing. With glass embedded in his skin. With no memory of the incident. With doctors telling us that now is the time to pray...

And this is what happens, my friends, when you forget to put your seatbelt on. When you decide to go to another bar after the first one gets ready to close, so you ride with someone who's been drinking. This is something we are all guilty of, at one point in time in our lives or another. This is something we have all done. And this is something that should teach us a lesson...not something to be forgotten, or written off as a bad stroke of luck. This is something we need to take away with us after all is said and done.

A friend of mine is in the hospital, and thanks to him, we are all re-evaluating our decision-making process. Why does it have to come down to something like this before we look at our behaviors and realize that they're destructive? That we put ourselves at risk because we crave a bit of relaxation, or a night of boozing? We risk our lives for our pride and we don't look back until we're forced to count the number of drinks it took for an acquaintance to crash into the median...

And this is what happens, my friends, when our lives are flashing like beacons in front of our faces. Flashing like the glowing red and blue of the ambulance lights, carrying off our friend into an unknown future...a future of wheelchairs, ventilators, monitored brain activity, an IC Bolt measuring intracranial pressure, and scars from a tracheotomy. The discomfort of not knowing how to be who you used to be because you can't remember who you were five minutes ago. The frustration of knowing...just knowing...that you're supposed to be somewhere...and not knowing how to get the words out when you want to ask for the directions. Not knowing how to ask for help, or just simply not being able to. We've welcomed into the fold of brain injury another beautiful person...who like a butterfly will be forced to emerge from a cocoon of pain, discomfort, and fear. Someone who will be squeezed back into society from a birth canal of tightly wrapped bandages, stitches in facial lacerations, intravenous lines dripping morphine into veins unwilling or unable to reach the deepest of aches.

A friend of mine is in the hospital, and I'm afraid for him. Deeply, disturbingly afraid for not only him, but for the rest of us. We won't walk from this unscathed. We, too, will experience each step of this path with him, if we are to be the best friends available. We need to remain open-minded and hopeful. We need to remain realistic and solid. We need to remain supportive and flexible. We need to remain understanding and mindful of his pain, which will not only be physical, but will be mental and emotional. It will be the white elephant in the room, standing on our toes, reminding us of our own fragility. The question remains of whether or not we can withstand the pain that is looming on the horizon like the dustcloud after a stampede. Although it was our friend struck down by this event, we are the ones who must stand tall for him throughout the coming months. We are the embodiment of survivor guilt, layered with the lack of understanding necessary to know that what comes, comes with a lesson and a prize in the bottom of the cracker jack box. We might not be getting something expensive, but whatever we are left with, be it crumbs or a decoder ring, will be priceless in it's meaning.

And this is what happens, my friends, when you are the caregivers, the family, the friends, the brothers, the sisters, the husbands, wives, significant others....the adopted cousin or the brothers in blood...You suffer with them, in ways that seem different, but remain the same. You hurt for them, you hurt with them, they hurt you and you hurt them. No matter the outcome, no matter the positive or negative effects...if the lesson teaches you nothing, then the lesson was in vain.

My friend is in the hospital, the victim of an acquired brain injury. My brother, father, sister, mother, wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend, best friend, neighbor, enemy, acquaintance, drinking buddy, fellow employee...is in the hospital...the victim of an acquired brain injury. He will never be who he could have been, but what he will become is something I can have a hand in molding, by offering my support, my patience, my understanding, and my shoulder to lean upon should the going get tough. I'm up to the challenge....I hope you are, too.

it's said that memory
distant, faded, lost within
is more than just the sensation that fills me
when I wonder about the images within

it seems that i can still feel hate
still be enraged
still rage against the fate

why me
why me
why me

I cry out and the words die
false breath on fresh lips
I'm flying high away from the day that draws near

take a sip of the nectar
but know I'm the strangling vine
if you don't like the flower you find
on the tip of your tongue...

prey on someone else's young
for I'm not here to starve nor feed
soul to replenish and heart to bleed
take seed within the moment
because I'm holding tight with bated breath
curled fist, torn flesh, straggling hair
but except for memory
you're not really there
or here, or near,
or far
you've been walking where your footsteps
shouldn't belong
marring the perfect surface of my id
amidst conversation
we've attained silence comfortably

hence i've gone storming from your fortress
a mess, in more than just makeup and take down
I'm the wrinkle in your frown
and the forgiving smile on your conscience
or maybe those are her lips giving good graces

we're in stasis and I'm drowning in the stagnation
no more elation just broken stones
and deep within my bones I see your heart etched like burns
and while my heart yearns, the rest of me cries
because while the whole of you strains to reach pinnacle
another inch of me tears away and flies free

why can't you see the hold you've clamped down on
the world that you frown on is the one you embrace
and holding your face between my palms
I find myself calm
a balm of serenity on an aching soul
and no longer am I whole but I'm branching in two
split off from myself
one to love
one to hate
this is the ugly fate I'd feared from the start
that I'd lose my heart as it's bled to black
there's no turning back
right smack dab in the middle of breaking
you're shaking from the aftermath
a bath of sweat and sweet perfume
her flesh
your flesh
her room
her womb...

Live for the gift that you've stopped giving
and I'm beginning to believe it all now
their lies, your eyes tell different and the same
because shame bleeds through deep
blue in the iris, you're as blackhearted as you've shown
calls on your phone, lips on your collar bone

shade not matching mine

but it's fine.
I told you
it's fine.
It's past.
It's done...

I've won prizes better thant his
better than the fear that leaves things amiss
no bliss nor beautiful balance to send us flying
I'm crying and you're running through the threshhold

so bold in your actions
so thoughtless in your moves
what does it prove, though?
Your carelessness with my soul
you care not whether I'm partial or whole
whether I'm halved or thriced

my moments diced and minced to minutes
begin it again with some other girl
in some other time
in some other world
where stupid me I'm still clinging
while stupid girls are still just singing
rhymes and whines and crimes of the heart
no time to start forgiving
just trying to continue living
while you're just living for two

one for you, me, and us
and then, just one for you.

Sometimes, we forget things.

We forget what we had for dinner three days ago. We forget birthdays. Death days. Holidays. Times, places, faces, things. We forget dreams. Aspirations. Hopes. Wishes.

We forget what we got on that project in 5th grade science.
We forget the last name of the first person we kissed.
We forget the grades we got on our 3rd grade report card.

There are things, however, that we shouldn't forget.
Our mother's birthday.
Our father's death-date.
Our brother's birthday.
Our anniversaries with our significant other.
The date of our first-born's birthday.
The date that we first found love.
The date that we first lost it.
The day we lost our virginity.
The day we realized it didn't matter, because we learned to love someone else.

There's a few dates that stick out in my head, dates I never forget to remember. One of them is September 13, 2001. Another, March 5, 2003. The last, June 28, 2003.

On September 13, 2001, I had a few drinks, got in my car, and killed someone's father, husband, brother, lover....

On March 5, 2004, I went to jail for it.
On June 28, 2004, I learned what freedom really felt like.

Freedom is tangible.
It's the wind on your face.
It's the weight of coins in your pocket.
It's the gravity of responsibility, weighing you down.
It's the feeling that time means nothing, that today and tomorrow are forever apart.
It's everything, and it's nothing, all at once.

I went to jail because I was stupid enough, at the tender age of 19, to believe that a few drinks would have no bearing on my ability to operate a motor vehicle. I drank, I drove, and, despite the situation and what had happened prior to my arrival at the scene of another accident, I hit a pedestrian with my car at approximately 1:30am on the Garden State Parkway. I sustained a concussion and some head lacerations, along with a bruised shoulder and hip. Another gentleman, who'd caused the previous accident, sustained injuries to his arm that have caused a lifetime of problems.

The last gentleman, someone's father, uncle, brother, husband....he died. Because I was stupid. Because, despite what they tell me after recreating the accident, despite what I know in my mind, in my heart I know that if I'd been sober, I'd have been able to avoid what happened. He tried to help someone. I tried to get home. He never made it there.

I don't know why he was on the parkway that night. I don't need to know, because that's another thing that will weigh on me every day, every hour. I know that my errors in judgment have led to a lifetime of regret. He got out of his car to help someone. I got into my car to drive home, when I shouldn't have gotten in my car at all.

I share this with you all because I want people to learn from my mistake. I want people to understand that everyone of us will fuck up sometimes. Every single one of us will do something that we'll regret until we die. It's human nature.

But if I can make people realize that what I did does not have to be repeated, maybe less people will die with regret.

Maybe less people will die, period.

I know what freedom is now, though. I thought freedom was getting in the car and driving until the sun came up, winding up at the beach, or the mountains, or wherever I felt like going.

But it's not.

Freedom is home. Freedom is touching the hand of a loved one and knowing that you're not being escorted back to a cell afterwards. Freedom is driving up to McDonalds and ordering a Big Mac. Freedom is lighting a cigarette. Freedom is drinking a Pepsi. Freedom is smiling without other people wondering what you're up to. Freedom is putting on your pajamas before you go to sleep at night. Freedom is not having to worry about who's watching when you pee. Freedom is eating what you want. Freedom is going to the laundromat and having dryer sheets. Freedom is sneakers. Freedom is underwire bras. Freedom is buying crackers at supermarket prices, rather than commissary prices. Freedom is a telephone call that's not interrupted with, "This call is brought to you by Union County Jail..." Freedom is being able to walk away from a confrontation without losing face. Freedom is being able to put ketchup on your burger. Freedom is having a choice in the morning of sleeping in, or going out early.

Freedom is the key in the lock.
Freedom is the sunshine on your face without bars blocking the full view.
Freedom is a pencil, and a paper, and stamps on demand.

Freedom is something we constantly take for granted.
And rightly so.
Statistically, one in every 142 of us will be held in a jail at some point in our lives. That means that, for the most part, if we're lucky, most of us won't experience the stripping of our privileges...the right to pick a book from the library and not worry that the copyright date is somewhere before the 1980s. The right to watch a television show on cable. The right to watch a movie, in a theater, that isn't repeated a thousand times. The right to decide that we don't want to have stale pancakes with sugary syrup for breakfast.

Statistically, however, you'll probably know someone who goes to jail. And if you do, remember...it's not easy. Most of us don't go to jail for crimes like burglary or murder. Statistically, it's for things like a DWI or an assault charge. Perhaps it's for tax evasion or some kind of non-violent protest. The number of people in jail for ridiculous, non-felony charges is higher than the number of people in jail for felonious charges.

But if you think about it, and you think about how often you speak to me, you know a felon. You know someone who went to jail, who paid her dues, and who is willing to freely discuss her experience in order to help others. We're not a rare breed. We're a pained breed. We're a mix of people who aren't comfortable with society, but who are comfortable with ourselves, considering we had a long, long time to make that determination.

I'm a felon. I'm a 2nd degree vehicular homicide felon. I'm a 3rd degree vehicular assault felon. I'm a girl with a DWI. I'm a girl with a stigmata even less acceptable than the real thing...but I'm willing to talk about it, and I'm willing to write about it, and still perseverate on it.

Jail was the worst thing that could have ever happened to me.
It was also the best.

Think on that, and tell me what you feel.
<3

Sometimes, I still think you've yet to suffer enough for your sins.

This is a repost from a friend's livejournal. I can guarantee that I'll be joining in the strike!

I'm not sure if everyone is aware of this, but Ebay is making drastic changes for people who sell and buy on Ebay. If one looks at it from the surface, the changes don't seem too bad. But if you look a little deeper, they're really very scarey.

Many sellers and buyers are going to be having a strike on February 18th through February 25 that includes no buying, no listing, no selling, no auctions on those days.

Right now, the Ebay marketing machine is billing these changes as "fee reductions" and that is what the media initally reported because they way the changes were announced were quite deceptive. But, for those of you who aren't really super active on Ebay and are wondering what all the changes entail, a summary of them follows.

First, they are reducing the listing fee by 5 cents and making Gallery free. On the surface this looks great and this is how they are marketing the change - as a "fee reduction". However, if you read the fine print you'll find that they are slyly raising Final Value Fees (The fee the seller pays when the item sells at auction) by as much as 33% to 66% for some sellers. The percentage of increase differs by seller because all sellers sell items with different values and the Final Value Fee is based on the dollar amount of the item. So we save a nickel to list an item, but pay 33% more after the auction is over. This first part of the changes, while quite disgusting, IS bearable.

Second, they are removing the ability for sellers to leave feedback for buyers. Now, Ebay has always been successful on the basis of both buyer and seller being able to rate each other based on the success of a single transaction. They are removing this for sellers. This is very scarey for the seller population because as sellers, we already are held hostage by what we call "Feedback Extortionist Buyers". These are the buyers that buy something in an auction and then send an email that says "You send me the item free or I will leave you a negative and ruin your Ebay reputation!". While people like this are quite few and far between, they do exist. I've got over 792 transactions and I've come across 4 difficult buyers who no matter what I couldn't please them. I managed to scrape by without a negative because they were booted from Ebay, but the point of the matter is that while most buyers are wonderful, these psycho types of buyers DO exist. Now with this new feedback system, ONE rogue buyer (and even my selling competition) could ruin my reputation very easily. Even if I provided a 100% perfect transaction and the item was received the very same day and all was perfect with the world, that one person could ruin me if they wanted to. All they would need to do is buy 5 or 10 items from me and leave five feedbacks separately - because each and every negative will count against the seller. This would mean the end of my store and my business on Ebay over one rogue buyer. Why? Read the next section.

Third, as if one and two weren't bad enough, if a seller has below a 95% satisfaction rating on Ebay, Ebay will not display your auctions in the search engine. For example, if I sell 20 items one month and 1 of them has a neutral or negative left for it by a buyer (deserved or not), I can no longer list auctions on Ebay and have them be seen in the search engine. Yes, thats right. I can list, Ebay will take my money, but all of my auctions will be on page 857 of the listing and never be seen by any buyers. So once I get one negative, it is virtually impossible to recover from that by selling additional items becuase non of my items will be seen to be purchased by another buyer later. Its a no win situation for a seller.

Fourth, as if all of this wasn't the most horrific thing you've ever heard, they're making changes to Pay Pal - which is the method most people use to accept payment over Ebay. From now on, if you have less than 100 feedback and you sell an item Pay Pal will not give you your money for 21 (TWENTY ONE DAYS!). Yes, you read that right. Say, Susie sells a 50 dollar item and the buyer pays through Pay Pal. Susie is then forced to ship the item FREE without any payment. After 21 days has passed, THEN Pay Pal will forward Susie her money. This folks is just horrible. Do you know anywhere else on the planet where you can demand that someone selling you an item give you the item FREE and ship it to you FREE while you hold on to your money for 21 entire days? I sure don't. On top of this "under 100 feedback" thing, again if I have less than a 95% rating or get one negative or get one neutral - again - Pay Pal will hold my money for 21 days. Imagine how must interest Pay Pal and Ebay will accumulate on billions of dollars being held in 21 day incriments - yet another disguesting way for them to squeeze MORE money out of the system.

Fifth, they instituted "Seller Rewards". Essentially, if you meet certain criteria as a seller you can earn 15% credit on your account. The catch is that you have to sell 1,000 dollars or more on your account every month and have to have a 4.8 rating on all your "stars". I feel that these guidelines are impossible to reach and that they were designed to be impossible to reach on purpose so that Ebay, yet again, would not have to actually pay out the discounts. To give you an example of how hard these are to reach, out of Ebay's top 500 Powersellers (These people are the creme of the crop on Ebay and make lilke $100,000 a month on Ebay)...anyway out of tje top 500 of them, only SEVEN qualify for the 15% discount. SEVEN.

And finally, when all these changes were announced, the Ebay sellers went ballistic. The response from Ebay management? We were told that our complaints and nager and frustration and tears were - and I quote - "NOISE!". Yes, we are nothing but "noise" to the Ebay management, yet they are making million dollar salaries off of us.


So I'm here to beg you guys, if possible, and even if you don't understand all the ins and outs of Ebay and what a seller has to go through to sell on Ebay - PLEASE RESPECT THE STRIKE we are organizing. Please! Please don't buy or sell on Ebay from Feb 18th through Feb 25th. Please tell your friends and family members to do the same. We know that not everyone can respect it - some people make ends meet by selling on Ebay. But for those of you who can, us sellers would very much appreciate it if you could respect the strike on those days.

Also - if you are an Ebay seller - and you are angry like the rest of us, CNN and FORBES is quite interested in how we feel. Quite a few people, including myself have flocked to CNN MONEY to get their attention. So far, the comments and anger and speaking out are actually working - the media is starting to pay attention and Ebay has stepped up their marketing tactics. We feel that they're getting a little worried over all the outrage.

Here is a link to the CNN MONEY site where you can leave a comment along side other sellers if you wish: http://fsbfeatures.blogs.fsb.cnn.com/20 ... rebellion/

You can also email Stacy Cowley at stacy_cowley@fortunemail.com This is the CNN Money Web Editor who is reporting that an investigation by the media is currently ongoing.

If you've made it this far in this long email, thank you