babybloomr

I really can’t imagine why. Something about, ‘reminds her of someone’…?

P.S. By the way, oh hai, I’m in Lake Tahoe! My sweet nephew Zach is getting married tomorrow and I am the official Taff family representative. Dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it. It is ridiculously gorgeous here– I’ll get some photos up soon!

I was a late-comer to Facebook. I mean, blogging I love, Twitter I enjoy, but Facebook…? When it was first explained to me (well, not explained so much as everyone and their mother telling me, “OMG, you just have to get a Facebook!”) my main thought was ‘Do I really even want to reconnect and swap life stories with people I went to Pulaski Heights Elementary school with? ‘Cos I’m thinking, no.’ But the peer pressure got to me and eventually I caved. Besides, it doesn’t really make sense to be a big ol’ social media hog (Note: I could have said ‘big ol’ social media whore’ just then, but I opted for the more elegantly phrased ‘hog’. You’re welcome.) on every other level and then turn my dainty little nose up at Facebook, does it? So before you knew it, there was my smiling mug plastered all over my very own FB page, asking people to be my friend.

And you know what? I happily admit I have had to eat my words about FB! Not only have I found and been found by all kinds of old schoolmates, neighbors, band members and friends but I have completely enjoyed doing it. It has especially been fun (and appeals to the voyeur in me) to look through everyone’s family photos–though it is more than a little disconcerting when you are looking at someone’s picture and thinking, “Dang, they look exactly the same!” and then realize you are looking at a picture of THEIR KID! Who is the same age as your friend was the last time you ever saw them! If I did not know better, I would think I’m old.

But here’s the thing. I had barely gotten my tiny foot in the Facebook door when I started getting all of these strange requests. People started sending me things, like virtual plants for my virtual garden and pretend snowballs for a pretend snowball fight. Also virtual pizzas and scriptures and flower bouquets and guns and jellybeans.  I started getting invitations for all manner of things. I was asked to join lots of artists fan pages. I was asked to complete quizzes like “What kind of car are you?” and “Which Andy Griffith Show character are you?” People wanted me to tell them my birthday and let them list me as one of their Special Friends. I was asked to join about a hundred different worthy causes, like breast cancer research and autism awareness. I got random announcements/invitations like, “My zoo just successfully bred two rare white pygmy ring-tailed lemurs! Come visit!”

It was a little overwhelming. And also? Kinda weird.

I mean, I’ve got a very lively imagination, and Lord knows I have been threatening to finally unleash Tori’s Magical Kingdom That Only Exists Inside Her Head Where She Is Queen of Everything for years. But here was my dilemma– how can I accept a virtual hatchling egg from one friend and refuse a virtual unicorn from from another one? How can I become a fan of one artist and not another? Wouldn’t that hurt people’s virtual feelings? Wouldn’t that make me look like a virtual beyotch? And wouldn’t it take my every waking moment to try to keep up with it all??? I finally decided that I would have to either say YES to every single request, invitation, quiz and snowball, or I’d have to hit that decidedly unfriendly-looking IGNORE button… I opted for the latter.

That’s ok, right?

*holds hand up in the air waiting for your virtual high-five*

Right?

*still waiting*

Well, in that case I probably need to send this conciliatory personal message to all of my sweet Facebook Friends:

Please don’t think I am a snot and please don’t get all shouty at me when I ignore your very lovely _______ (fill in the blank.) In fact, please don’t stop sending them, I think they are fun and I truly appreciate the fact that you thought about me. And actually, I’d probably really enjoy receiving a unicorn/pillow fight/Farkle game from you. But the deal is, if I say yes then I will end up with third degree burns on my thighs from spending 12 hours a day on my laptop replying to all of the requests, and also? These dang children are not going to raise themselves and I have already given them more than enough stuff to deal with in therapy later and I don’t want to have to go bail them out of jail some day after they’ve knocked over a liquor store and have to hear all about how they were perfectly normal kids until I developed that Facebook addiction and never came out of my room blah blah blah.

So see, I have no choice but to say no. Or else the terrorists win.

Love, Tori

(How about you guys? Do you pick and choose, or always say Yes, or always say No..?)