Thursday, October 23, 2008

Ok, I get it now

I have to admit that I've been a bit confused by all the social networking sites. Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, LinkedIn.....What's the point, I've wondered, about following your acquaintances electronically?

Do I really need to know that my old roommate is cleaning house? Or that a colleague is counting down the minutes to 5 pm? I've sort of lurked and watched what a BigWig Hoohah in our industry has put on his Facebook page, and I'm pretty shocked that he is just a regular guy. Seems to travel a lot and have some political leanings, but beyond that, a regular Joe. No, not Joe the Plumber. I'm not going there.

There's a blogger down in Houston that I have a total girl crush on. This chick is hysterical. She writes about reality TV and some random clips of her life. I CANNOT. GET. ENOUGH. OF. HER. And now, thanks to Twitter, I know exactly when she heads out to the Super Target to pick up her Halloween Oreos. What a strange world it's become, huh?

Anyway, I've recently become addicted to Facebook. Lots of my family members have Facebook pages. It's fun to get on and see their profiles, as they are much more willing to put pictures out there than I am. As much as I share in this forum, and Lord knows it's too much sometimes, I still guard the privacy of MrG and LittleG. It freaks me out thinking that some random whackjob might see a picture of my kid and stalk her on a field trip or at the park, so I don't post family photos. My brother and my cousins do, though, and I like seeing updated photos of their spouses and kids.

My college roommate has a Facebook page, and I am fascinated by the life she leads. She's here in Texas and she acts, and apparently does it pretty well. It's been interesting to read her take on politics, and I'm pretty sure she's never speaking to me again based on our polar opposite points of view. Regardless, I still like to lurk and live vicariously through her as she is young and rich and beautiful and smart. She's always rushing off to this audition or that, or hobnobbing with the pretty folk. What a contrast to my 9 to 5 gig.

This week, I watched a pretty ugly fight between a friend of mine and some random person she went to school with years ago. Seems that neither of them realized that what they were posting to each other was being shot all over cyberspace. Odd, to stand on the sidelines and watch. Sad, to talk to her face-to-face the next day and realize how much her former friend's words had hurt her.

Facebook and sites like it have opened up a whole new world for all of us. I've learned all sorts of things about who is friends with whom at work, and that the Mean Girls really are mean girls. Not that I would EVER log on at work (because that would be WRONG), but I can tell you that many of my colleagues do.

I have found friends I hadn't thought of in years, and one in particular that I had thought about often but had lost track of. We were BFFs when we were young, say three decades ago, and thankfully she had a very unique maiden name. She used it in her LinkedIn profile, and we've reconnected.

We found each other a few years ago - before I was married maybe? Or before LittleG? I can't remember and it really doesn't matter. We lost track of each other again, and that was sad for me. But I have found her again, and I've found that visiting with her again through email is as easy and carefree as it was in the 70s. Of course, back then, we used paper and ink and stamps and envelopes! OMG I feel old.

How strange to think that we have found each other again after all of these years, and that some silly little website is to blame for it. We're having lunch next week, and I am positively giddy at the thought. I hope that time and different lives have not taken us in such opposite directions that it will be uncomfortable for either of us. And while I like to think we would be a big part of each other's lives again, it's hard to know, really, what paths our lives have sent us down.

I have some advice for you young 'uns out there. Be sure you pick friends and lovers with unique or unusual names. Sure makes it easier to find them a lifetime from now.

Hugs to all, and please go update your Facebook pages.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

It's hard to argue with logic like this.

A little geographical background. I live in Irving, Texas, almost the former home of America's Team, the Dallas Cowboys. The eastern side of our city is adjacent to Dallas. Dallas has full liquor sales, hard stuff and all, on darn near every street corner in the city. Gas stations and grocery stores alike sell beer and wine, and liquor stores sell everything from practice beer to the hard stuff.

Irving is voting again as a city on whether we want beer and wine for sale within our city limits. Currently, if you'd like to have a party and serve beer, you have to drive to Dallas to buy it. Some of us (many of us, actually) think it makes more sense to be able to buy beer here, while you're loading up your grocery cart with things like cheese dip and tortilla chips. Not only is it easier on us heathens that, God forbid, drink alcohol, but it also keeps the tax revenue in our city instead of sending it next door. And this is just for beer and wine, not the hard stuff.

Anyway, this is the third time this has been on the ballot, and over the years we've heard all sorts of arguments against it. Today, however, takes the cake.

A caller to a local radio station says that he is voting AGAINST the beer and wine referendum. Because, get this, our city has public transportation. Einstein, the caller, believes that allowing beer and wine sales in Irving will encourage the homeless to hop on a bus and come here to buy their 40 oz cans of Schlitz Malt Liquor.

So tell me this. If I'm a bum in the City of Dallas, am I really going to part with my beer money to hop on a bus and come to Irving so I can find a grocery store?

I don't even know what to say.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

I heart Helen

Republicans, please move along. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Everybody else, please click here. Helen Said it!!!.

Helen Philpott, 82 years old and a brand new blogger. I think I may be in love.

You betcha!

I proudly cast my vote for That One today.

Regretfully, my friend standing beside me cancelled out my vote, but thank heavens we live in a country where we are free to believe how we wish to, and we can still be friends with those who vote for the other guys.

Whether you're blue or red or purple, get out and vote. It's your right and it's your privilege. People have fought and died for your right to cast your vote, so take the time to make them proud.

Monday, October 06, 2008

An open letter to the nice family at Sam's on Sunday

Dear Family,

What a nice family you seem to be. Mom, Dad, little fivish or so girl in her sassy denim jeans. Hanging out together, strolling through Sam's on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Holding hands by the muffins in the bakery.

Oh man, little one, you look pretty puny, a little green around the gills perhaps. Oh no! Don't do it! Suck it up, sis. You can make it through Sam's without barfing. Or, maybe not.....

Good job, Mom and Dad, for promptly comforting your little spewing offspring in her moment of need. It sucks to be little and sick, and when you're the grown up, the only excuse in the world for leaving your kid's barf on the floor is so you can whisk her away, home to the bathtub, fresh jammies and her teddy bear, where with a little time and a little Pedialyte, she'll be good as new.

It was nice that you scooped her away from the scene she'd just made, to suffer her wet jeans and humiliation in the privacy of your Lexus SUV, hopefully with leather seats. Too bad, though, for the poor bakery chick who was left to deal with the devastation your little geyser just left.

I have my own little girl, so I wondered several times during the next 30 minutes I spent in the store about how your daughter was faring. Did you get her home, I wondered, before Round 2? Or God forbid, before Number 2? Because if what came out one end was an indication of what was coming out the other, poor you! And poor, poor Lexus.

Imagine my surprise then, when I finished my shopping and headed to the front of the store. Lo and behold, there you all are. Drippy wet, in the cart before me, sat your little angel. In her soaking wet jeans, smelling to high heaven. I said "smelling" folks, not "smiling."


You're too busy to stick around and clean up the mess your kid left on the floor, but you still have time to finish up your shopping? Are you kidding me? Not only have you befouled the bakery, but now you've polluted the air in the rest of the store with God only knows what kind of rotavirus, norovirus, astrovirus PLAGUE.

Nice, though, that you had time to pick up the giant bag of potatoes and some extra Tide. Smells like you're gonna need it.

Thanks a helluva lot for that, folks. We need more self-centered jackasses in the world, and we certainly need more kids with tummy bugs. It's not enough that your kid is sick, so now you have to drive her, dripping down the aisles of the local warehouse store, spreading her nasty stomach virus to all the shoppers?

It's a good thing I have turned into such a germ-a-phobe, because I was barely arms length away from spraying all of you from head to toe with the giant can of Lysol I picked up on aisle 33.

Shame on you for your lousy treatment of your own kid, the poor bakery chick, and all the innocent shoppers you might have infected. Next time, why don't you go to Costco instead? My membership has expired there.

Best regards,