Facebook

Ok, just because I haven't blogged, doesn't mean that nothing bad is happening....

I've joined Facebook.

I really don't have oodles of free time. I don't have a job with lots of downtime that affords me the luxury of unlimited access and the occasion to fritter it away on the Internet, AND get paid for it. I don't need friends. I have friends that I like and social outlets (not virtual) to meet more friends, should I desire them. I don't, won't ever, don't ask me to....network. So what in the world have I done?

I wasn't bored. No body under any circumstances, except for prisoner-of-war or jury duty and neither of those are applicable, could be THAT bored. I wasn't compelled. No one was bothering, nagging at me, coercing, or even urging me to participate...in fact one really good friend wasn't even sure he wanted to confirm me as his "friend" - what is he hiding? I'm quite sure my children and their spouses don't want me prying into their accounts. Most of the people I know aren't interesting in receiving "flare" or participating in questionnaires to find out who they were in a former life, or being friends with everyone I'm friends with or...networking.

So what is it with this web site? It's strangely intriguing. I get to answer the question in real time, "What am I doing right now?" It's voyeuristic. I get to "see" what other people are doing. I look at their pictures, read their profiles. It's communicative and artistic. I write on walls, send messages, comment, and read pithy sayings on "bumper stickers". I could create bumper stickers if I'm so inclined.

I have a pathetic cell phone, a digital camera, and my very own laptop. We have wireless Internet access and in-house computer/printer networking (which is acceptable, it's not the "other" kind of networking). Our business is fully automated, except for the Tall One who programs the automation. We have a DVR, which I'm not sure how we lived without. What we don't have is a GPS device, really good cell phones with all the bells and whistles, iPods and/or MP3 players, or blackberries.

And that my friend (virtual or real), is bogus.

Dinner and a Song

I had dinner with Song, at my house. I made quinoa pie, and Christmas cookies. We opened a bottle of Grapeful Red. She told me where she's at...

She's been pretty depressed...and she has good reason. Dead husband, no insurance money, lack of security. She lost, or forfeited, her vocation. But, she's not defeated. The thing I like about Song, well one of the things, is that she will ask for help. She's been feeling badly. She went to the doctor and got a prescription for, not an antidepressant, but anti-anxiety, the new emotional challenge. But, she's doing everything she can for herself. I love that. She has every reason to give up and give in. But she won't.

She's going to contact the local rescue mission, to see if they need help on Christmas day. She thinks that'll be good for her. I do too.

I have to send her an email. She was supposed to go, with her sister and brother-in-law, to the place where she and her deceased husband spent their first date. I hope she had a lovely time. She deserves to have a lovely time.

She's made reservations at her husband's favorite natural resource. That's where she and her family will scatter his ashes. She has the most practical, thought-out plan you can surmise. She has put effort into her life.

She's cutting back her work hours. She needs time. She should have time. Isn't that a truly remarkable revelation? I hope we get to take walks together. I need her perspective.

Survive the holidays, Song, you should be able to breathe a little real, real soon.