I have discovered yet another online addiction.
You guys know I resisted starting a page for ages. I didn't see the point, really. I was certain it was just another time-suck. But I gave in, figuring I'd just see what it was like and, sure I was going to hate it, thought I'd delete my page within a week or two. Yeah. Right. That was several months and 125 friends ago. It's actually been pretty cool, I have to admit. I don't play any of the games or pass virtual drinks around or hit anyone with virtual pillows, but I do 'play' on it every day. It's enabled me to get back in touch with people I never imagined I'd ever hear from again. It allows me to just drop quick notes to friends to let them know I'm thinking of them, without having to do the long, back-and-forth email thing. Cool.
An unexpected benefit of FB has been the writing. For those of you who don't know, FB lets you post 'status updates' as often as you'd like. You get 240 characters (about 4 lines) to say what you want to say (and oddly, most people wind up referring to themselves in the 3rd person, as each post starts with your name). The character limit really requires some creative writing, especially for wordy people like me. Not everyone is wordy, though, and some people use them to tell their friends pretty much everything they're doing...
"Mary is waiting for her kid at the orthodontist."
"Joe just ate a steak for dinner."
"Susan is going to the bathroom."
OK, well, that bathroom one might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the picture. I don't use FB for updates like that. I don't think anyone really needs (or wants) to know when I'm going to Target or how many times I peed in one day (unless, of course, I peed a shocking number of times... that might be notable). I thought I'd give you a few of the posts I've put in the past couple of weeks, since I haven't been around here much. They'll give you an idea of what I've been up to... or not...
Diane was alarmed and disappointed at the ease and speed with which the words 'dumb' and 'ass' shot out of her 10-year-old's mouth. Her 10-year-old was alarmed and disappointed at her own clear lack of discretion. She was also just a little scared of her mother's Evil Eye, which very nearly reduced her to mere ash... dumb ash.
Diane thinks that grown men who declare their affinity for Star Wars on their license plates and have pictures of Yoda and Luke Skywalker emblazoned on the back windows of their trucks probably don't get a lot of dates.
Diane wonders if it's terrible that I laughed REALLY hard when I saw a photo of my ex's new wife (you know, the one to whom he has not actually admitted being married) and noted that she has gained all the weight (and more) that I've lost this year. OK, you know what? I don't care if it's terrible... it's FUN-NY!
Diane believes that if talking was an Olympic sport, she'd be raising a gold medalist.
Diane has a 10-year-old who came home from school this afternoon feeling ugly, stupid, and clumsy. I felt so bad for her that I didn't tell her how those days still happen, even when you're 44.
Diane does not understand the point in separating whites from colors (as in laundry, not people... no, wait... as in people, too!) IF there is nothing in the 'colors' pile that will run. I also see no point in owning an iron as long as Downey keeps producing their bottled wrinkle releaser. Just sayin'.
Diane is considering drowning her supremely cranky 10-year-old in the supremely flooded basement. Yeah. It's Monday.
Diane had a dream last night that I got my feet stuck behind my head and someone took a picture and posted it on FB. I actually did get stuck like that when I was a kid and my mom had to unstick me. I just checked, though, and I can no longer do it (shock and surprise, right?!). I can, however, still touch my toes to my nose. I don't expect the need to do so will arise often, though. Nor will a photo of it.
Facebook. Fun. Addictive. Bit of a time-suck. But fun. Really!