Y'all: I am SUPER BUSY these days and my travel schedule for the next few weeks is utterly insane. I am doing what I can to keep this little blog flourishing but OMG...unless someone creates a 28-hour day and an 8-day week there is simply not enough time to get it all done. Which I know is ok. We all go through these phases.
Anyways, I felt quite fortunate to have a guest poster step in last week and help pick up some of the slack and I was wondering how I would manage this week when...the genius of Twitter saved my ass. Seriously - one random Tweet about needing a guest poster (sorry kids - I have yet to figure out how to paste screen shots of Twitter into Blogger) and BAM: The lovely, talented, amazing, gorgeous and totally awesometastic Modern Matriarch stepped in and volunteered her wickedly snarky and always entertaining services. I mean really - who feels like the luckiest blogger in the internetwebosphere?
Seriously, Modern Matriarch is a total blogging bad ass and to have her talent on my wee little blog - well, it's an honor. So without further ado...
Don’t poke me.
Don’t superpoke me.
Don’t send me a flower for my garden or a watermelon martini.
I don’t care if your imaginary zoo bred another animal or if you took a quiz about what 1980s sitcom character you are.
I hate Facebook.
I want to like Facebook. I really do. But I don’t.
The thing that annoys me the most is that it brings together all aspects of my life into one giant place as if they were one. I don’t want my coworkers or boss seeing pictures of me out at a bar licking my gay best friend’s bicep. I don’t want my friend’s mother from high school inviting me to Mary Kay parties. I don’t want to be friends with someone who I passed in the hall in high school.
I want my blog stuff separate from my work stuff. I want my friends separate from random-ass acquaintances. I don’t want it all in one place.
The end of the world as we know it was the day I opened my email to this:
April Miller wants to be your friend on Facebook. April Miller is my MOTHER. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that my mother is embracing social networking rather than crossing her arms in front of her chest and saying, “I don’t use those computer things” like many in her generation. I am glad she is reconnecting with old friends and keeping in better touch with family members.
But, my mom? For the love of foie gras.
I get that a lot of people love Facebook and spend an inordinate amount of time on it, playing games, taking quizzes, joining causes, becoming fans of things. And to each his own, really. But here’s how I feel:
I DON’T GIVE A MOTHERLESS GOAT’S ASS IF YOU’RE A FAN OF MARGARET HOULIHAN, AKA HOTLIPS.
I guess it’s the apathetic part of me, the misanthropic side that mostly lies dormant, that hates Facebook so much. I’m on it, yes, mostly because I’m a lemming. I have a few hundred friends, a third of whom I give a crap about.
The other two thirds are people I only friended to see if they got fat.
Oh, shut up. You’ve done it too.
So if you are my friend on Facebook and I shoot back a “screw you and your mother” when you send me a fake hatching egg, I apologize. I like YOU, really.
It’s not you Facebook friends, it’s me.
For the record: I am friends with Modern Matriarch on Facebook, I am a reformed Poker and SuperPoker, but I don't do FB quizzes any more - they make me stabby. I have heretofore avoided any of the time sucks like Farmville and Mafia Wars because as previously stated, I don't have enough time in my day for what needs to get done. Also, I don't friend work peeps.
5 hours ago