Facebook stalker!

My mother defines this phrase.

For a  year, she had been pestering my brother and I about Facebook.  “What’s all the fuss” “Why do you spend so much time on the computer” blah blah blah blah.  We gave her many reasons–ways to catch up with people, ways to keep in touch with those that live far away, ways to stay in contact with those that live overseas and therefore ones we’d never have a chance to hear from otherwise.  She didn’t get it.  So my brother finally set her up on Facebook about four months ago so that she could mess around.

She has 14 friends.  She claims she doesn’t want any more.  All of them are either relatives or friends from my brother or me.

Yet weekly, sometimes daily, I get a voice mail or email saying “Go check out ____’s page!”  It cracks me up.  She who bemoans the lack of privacy and the fact that nothing is personal any more spends HOURS every day looking up her high school acquaintances, old boyfriends of mine, children of people from church, spouses of children of former coworkers, you name it.  And she LOVES to dish about what she finds.

Don’t get me wrong, I think that if you’re going to keep your Facebook profile set to public then you have every right to expect people to read the infinite minutiae of your life.  But there is a limit on what I want to know.  If I wanted to know what my mother’s former coworker’s son’s wife’s brother had for breakfast, then I’d look it up.  I’m just tired of having her send me all this info.  I have enough friends on Facebook, I don’t need to look up random facts of people I’ve never met.

Now, to top it off, I’m getting phone calls about my OWN Facebook activity.  “You shouldn’t have that for a potential employer to see”.  “You shouldn’t post things like that someone will break into your house and rob you blind”. “You make too many comments about your cousin”. “Why do you talk to your church friends so much on Facebook?”.  It goes on and on.  First of all, a potential employer wouldn’t look at anything more than my photo on my Facebook page, thanks to the privacy settings.  That’s what LinkedIn is for–the professional contacts.  The stuff on Facebook is for those that I hang out with, those that are from my past that I don’t mind keeping in touch with, and those that I call family that are close enough to be connected.  I hang out with my friends from church, therefore I post that I’m going to meet them/they’ve come over whatever.  If someone that is on my friend list uses that as an opportunity to break into my house, well, first they’d have to find out where I live and then second it doesn’t say much for my friend base, does it?

Just random venting about this.  I know it’s a tiny thing, but it irks the hell out of me.  And most of all it has me wondering . . . is it wrong to de-friend my mother on Facebook?

Thoughts on Facebook

Is it just me, or has Facebook become the new method of blogging for the ADHD Twitter set?

I enjoy my blog. It allows me to be creative in some form, to express opinions on matters that are pertinent at that particular point in my life, and to post items that are newsworthy at that day and time. Basically, it’s a catch all for me to have conversations with myself to pass the time.

I also enjoy Facebook, and have found that it has kept me from losing my mind while unemployed by providing endless sources of thoughtless entertainment.

Yet as I grow more and more obsessed with reading status updates, it seems to me that it is another method of providing instant updates in miniblog form. Photos from Christmas. Photos from the Superbowl party (guilty). Status updates on how it is time to tackle Mt. Laundry. A posting on 25 things you may/may not know (also guilty). A joke that someone told that made those that know you well laugh along with you and the original jokester.  Top 5 lists.  What people are doing at every second of every day.  It is as if there isn’t enough time to form a full thought so I get to learn about J’s consumption of an entire sleeve of Thin Mints in one sitting while simultaneously learning that M is annoyed with the latest American Idol voting results.

So here is the question: has a personal blog become a thing of the past?

A Delayed Sense of Accomplishment

When I was in college, there was a girl that lived in my hall that taught me to crochet. She was broke (what college student isn’t) and needed a cheap Christmas gift for family members. She taught me and my neighbors how. I made a few small things, then I was on the phone one night with a guy named Tony that someone thought would be a great match for me. He wasn’t, but while on the phone I started chain stitching for an afghan that I wanted to keep. That was in 1993.

Eight addresses, seventeen skeins of yarn, and fifteen years later, I have finished the afghan. It’s disproportionate, matches nothing in my house, and is ENORMOUSLY HUGE, but I have finished. Working on it only in the winter while watching a movie, having it sit in my mother’s closet for seven years at one point, none of it matters.

Most importantly, the thing I most looked forward to about this whole thing was that I was finally able to wash it.

But it is warm, it’s finished, and it is a beautiful thing in its ugliness. Isn’t it???

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My friend the pseudo-psychic

So back around the first of August, my sage friend E said that he was predicting that gasoline prices would fall drastically within a week of the election–to within a few pennies of $3.

He was half right.

Seen on my way to work this morning: $1.98 per gallon.

I should have filled up before I left town–it’s $2.39 where I am tonight!!!

So he was correct, but just had the wrong dollar point!  Go E!

Professional Decorum

I realize that it has been a long time since I have had to pound the pavement searching for employment and that things have changed since I last looked over a decade ago.  As a result, the last three months have consisted of LOTS of time on the computer, LOTS of time driving to interviews (averaging 2-3/week since mid-July), and constant concern over what to wear to each interview in order to set the proper impression.

I realized today that I probably make a much bigger deal than needed over that last concern.

This morning, I went for an interview–my third one this week, so I’m right on schedule.  Like many companies do, the HR director set aside an entire day for interviews with the appointments staggered throughout the day.  For this particular company, there were actually two HR personnel taking appointments.  I had been instructed to come with a hard copy of my resume, a list of references, and to dress in professional attire.  Now, I don’t know if it was just my HR director that issued that edict, but if what I saw in the waiting room is any indication the definition of professional attire has changed drastically since I last looked for a job.

I was one of six women to pass through the reception area.  (Keep in mind that it was 60 degrees outside and rainy.)  When I first entered the Suite there were only two women waiting–a girl in jeans and a sweater who kept talking on her cell phone and a blond girl that was wearing black pants, a printed black sweater jacket, and a belly skimming sweater top.  Turns out that the jeans girl was simply waiting to give a ride to a very nattily dressed gentleman that was in an interview room, so that made sense as she was not there in a professional capacity.  Next, a very nicely dressed African American lady wearing black pants and a printed blouse entered.  She looked very put together, but when she sat down next to me it was all I could do to keep from moving as she had on so much perfume I was seeing stars.  Then came in two young girls at the same time.  One was very petite, hair in a ponytail, black skinny jeans, and a ribbed white top carrying a cell phone and keys.  Not really my idea of professional attire, but it was the other girl that changed my outlook on how to dress for an interview. Continue reading

A little awkward….

So I got home today from running errands, weekly hospital visit, borrowing a vacuum (not one but TWO blew up on me on Sunday).  Anywho, normal errand sort of day.  Get home, my jeans are wet, so I take them off to dry.  Before I can get dressed in comfy loungey-type pants the phone rings.  So I am sitting in my den chair, crosslegged on the phone.  Hang up the phone, and before you know it there is someone ringing my doorbell.  Nobody ever rings my doorbell.  If you know me, you either have a key, call, or come straight to the back door.

It was my lovely next door neighbor who speaks about eight words of English–and “Hello, Kelly!” are two of them.  He was very nicely bringing me a piece of (junk) mail that had been delivered to his home instead.  Only I’m sitting in my chair, in plain side view of the front door, pantsless.  No way am I gonna get up and walk over, but it’s hard to tell someone that doesn’t speak English to just leave it on the front doormat.

Yep, awkward.

Pluto Rocks!

With full apologies to Jason Kotkke, as I found this on his website.  I thought it was a riot, and yes, he did the right thing!  I have copied in its entirety:

Bringing Pluto back to the solar system

Meg bought Ollie this ball a couple of weeks ago. It’s got all the planets of the solar system on it, plus the Sun. But no Pluto. That’s right, it’s barely been two years since Pluto was demoted to dwarf planet status and the toy manufacturers have already made the adjustment.

It saddens me that Ollie has to grow up in a world where Pluto isn’t considered a planet, although I take comfort that his textbooks probably won’t be updated by the time he’s in school. In the meantime, I’ve Sharpied Pluto onto his ball.

Pluto, back where it belongs

One ball at a time people, that’s how we win.

Quote of the Day

Tough girls come from New York.  Sweet girls, they’re from Georgia.  But us Virginia girls, we have fire and ice in our blood.  We can ride horses, be a debutante, throw left hooks, and drink with the boys–all the while making sweet tea, darlin’.  And if we have an opinion, you know you’re gonna hear it.

Ran across this on a website somewhere, no idea who wrote it, but darn if it isn’t dead on!

Have a great weekend everyone.