Falling On My Facebook
One day I received an email "invitation" from someone quite close to me with a request to be her “friend”. It was from my lovely, favorite, and only daughter. All I had to do was to sign up on Facebook. No biggie, right? I figured it would just be another way to keep up with her…I mean, we were already friends, right?
Well, two months, twenty friends, and ten games of Wordscraper (a Facebook version of Scrabble) later, I’ve found yet another way to be embarrassed, or to embarrass myself.
For example, do I REALLY want to see pictures of my daughter’s friends (now young women) in all sorts of scanty attire of which they are so fond when I used to change their diapers in the daycare at church? That’s the “be embarrassed” part.
Should I have gotten into an Obama vs. McCain (with each on the side of the candidate you might least expect) debate with one of my daughter’s friends (even though SHE posted her negative comments first)? That’s the “embarrass myself” part.
Oh, but there is so much more.
How about having your butt spanked and otherwise being thoroughly humiliated at Wordscraper by a dominatrix who doesn’t reveal her predilection until “chatting” and playing words that can’t be repeated for genteel readers? That’s BOTH “be embarrassed” and “embarrass myself” all wrapped up in one.
But, alas, the bug has bit and now I’m trying to hook my friends across the country to also join up so we can more easily keep tabs on what we are all doing. A junkie is most happy in the company of other junkies.