The Dark Side

I signed up for Facebook and was hit with the initial rush, the glory of feeling connected, hooked in, popular. I had friends popping up everywhere, but soon the pace lulled and the manic commenting slowed. After a few days, I wondered what was left to say to these people I hadn't seen or heard from in years. Most conversations left off before they'd really even begun. I was left with piles of information on people I used to know and friends I used to have.

The result was a bit dispiriting. I paged through lists and read personal bios in which people regaled me with tales and photos from their seemingly glamorous lives. One had gotten married and another moved to Denver. One had a list of graduate degrees coming out her ears, and another was working in South America. A peripheral acquaintance wrote how much she couldn't wait to spend the rest of her life with her amazing, fantastic boyfriend. These flashy descriptions lodged in my mind and whispered in my ear: What are you doing with your life? I panicked. Was I beyond ecstatic for the rest of my life with Ed? Where were my graduate degrees and sub-equatorial climate?

I went around feeling grim for half a day before I spilled the beans to Ed. Always the realist and just the right kind of skeptic, he talked me out of freaking out and set me pondering something else.

EVERYONE TELLS LIES.

Not lies, exactly, but stretches on the truth, a polished-up version of reality. Everything sounds nicer this way, without the grit and grime and utter inanity of real life. It's exactly like those holiday letters my family receives every year: Jimmy's brilliant! Jane is beautiful. Tom and I are still madly in love after 26 years.

RETCH.

I sound like the Depress Express, I realize, but that's not really the case. I am, in fact, as happy as the next girl. I could go on about the rosy excellence of my own life to make myself feel better (and you feel worse), but I won't. I will, however, keep this in mind before I let Suzy Sunshine and her Facebook friends ruin my mood again.

Friended

Facebook has been on my radar since senior year in college when I signed up out of curiosity under the pseudonym "Margaret Thatcher." I listed Margaret's interests as "teatime and kickball", her relationship status as "single and searching," and her employment history as "stodgy, at best." In the weeks that followed I received e-mail notifications almost daily from people everywhere who had "friended" Margaret and wanted that friendship confirmed. I humored these strangers for a few days until the novelty wore off, and then promptly forgot about Facebook entirely.

But lately, well. Lately, Facebook has re-entered my life with a vengeance. I received an invite to join from a friend I haven't seen in ages. Since we met in Scotland in 2002 she's bounced from place to place, setting up residence in Tanzania, Prague, China and now Australia. The fact is, I miss her, and out of sheer sentimentality and a little residual curiosity, I signed my life away up for Facebook again. This time, I used my real name and details (don't worry Mom, they're not accessible to anyone without my permission...) and set off running into a new world of 21st century social networking.

Dudes, can I just tell you how popular I am? On the first day I lucked out and secured a confirmed "friendship" with someone I knew from high school and college, and the chain reaction resulting from it has been insane. Through this one friend I was linked to her whole list of friends, and from them, their whole lists of friends and on and on ad infinitum. But, it's not quite as simple as all that. See, when I find someone I know who I want to be "friends" with, I have to ask them.

It's very fourth grade. Hi, remember me? I sit next to you in Math class and you smell sorta weird, but if you give me that pencil I'll be your BFF.

If they agree, they send a confirmation and wham bam we are linked forevermore. And when they do, talk about an ego-boost. I now have 31 friends. Just imagine receiving that many e-mails confirming that, not only are you known, you are likeable enough that someone wants to "friend" you. I mean, sure, it's not really "friendship" if all we do is snoop on each other's profiles, but I still get a strange satisfaction from knowing that these people that I remember actually remember me too. It's like the ultimate redemption after losing touch with so many people over the years.

It was awesome! At least for a few minutes. Then, things got weird.

Tune in next time for Facebook: The Dark Side

Vacation Station

Ed and I went to Bar Harbor, ME for one night on our way to Prince Edward Island, Canada. We spent a week on PEI, visiting beaches, whacking golf balls off the cliff, drinking beer, reading books, spying moon snails, finding seashells, visiting family, getting drenched, playing cards and doing lots of other stuff. Check out the photos here.

Statues and Stuff

On our recent trip through Maine and up to Prince Edward Island, we found some fun stuff to pose with. Enjoy!

Mmm, Pie

Ed and I went strawberry picking a few weekends ago and got a little, shall we say, overzealous? We came home with 12 pounds of strawberries and stood there in the kitchen, looking at each other like, Uhh...what did we do? So, I made a pie. My first pie. A strawberry rhubarb pie. I brought it to a barbecue at Stefanie and Roma's house and we ate every last crumb. YUM!