HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE FACEBOOK

In addition to the invaluable public service I provide my readers with through my harping rants, I’m thinking I can add even more helpful content. Since many of the half-dozen of you reading this (Boy, I’ve got a following now! Look out world.) are writers, I’m thinking of also using the blog as a forum to discuss my and other’s experiences with different writing markets, interesting contests, anthologies, and other calls for manuscripts, links to useful websites like Duotrope's (if you don’t know this one, you’re living in the dark ages), etc. Writerly stuff. Maybe one of these days I’ll even get a links list together, but let’s not get too ambitious just yet. And of course you won’t want to miss any of this, so don’t forget to subscribe to Shouts From the Madhouse. You wouldn’t want to miss one scintillating day in the life of me, would you? I thought not.

I’ve figured out how to send this feed to my Facebook (yeah, yeah) page. I’m like a bride in an arranged marriage with this Facebook thing. I was forced into it, there’s no getting out now, so I just have to learn to love it and hope it doesn’t slap me around too much.

And now your long awaited and much beloved Irish curse of the day:

MAY YOUR DREAMS AND REFLECTIONS BE VILE AND BAD

Wait a minute, I think my enemies have been reading my book!

ABOUT-FACE(BOOK)

Hey there friends and frienemies alike. Today’s FTS award goes to Facebook. That’s right, I said it. And if you’ve seen my Facebook page, you already know my feelings. Hey, what’s the beef with FB, Jess? you ask. Well, I’ll tell you. For one, I don’t like that you can’t personalize your page. It’s boring. And now that I’ve taken the time to personalize my MySpace page, everyone is migrating to FB. Now I have to deal with keeping up two pages. I am only one woman! (Though my psychiatrist might say different.) And I was never any good at maintaining the one page. Is that all? you query. No. I also hate that it broadcasts my every move to all two (ok, I have a few more than that) of my friends. Jessica Hoard just added a picture. Jessica Hoard just wrote on so-and-so’s wall. Jessica Hoard just scratched her butt. It’s creepy, it’s invasive, it’s a bit like being stalked. But now that I’m being forced to spend some time getting to know FB, at least I’ve discovered how to limit that somewhat. And another thing, instead of using normal language like “send a message” or “post a comment” they have to be all cutesy with stuff like writing on super walls and poking, and people are always wanting you to take personality tests and crap. It’s just all very junior high. Of course, the whole idea of social networking is junior high, what with all the friend counting and belonging to groups and networks and whatnot. Considering that Facebook has now eclipsed MySpace, I can’t really say “FTS” to FB, though it’s still not my BFF. Because everyone is now at FB, I have to suck it up and go too. I’m trying not to show my advancing age with my crabby, stubborn, change-hating, Luddite ways and utter uncoolness. So I guess I’m making an about-face about Facebook.

Today’s un-FTS, or non-FTS, or whatever, goes to the guy at the car inspection place who passed me yesterday even though my right blinker wasn’t working. Thanks, dude! You rock! Actually, I don’t know if that’s really a fail-worthy violation.

And today’s Irish curse:

MAY WARTS AND CHAPPED HANDS ALWAYS BE WITH YOU

See you on Facebook.

FTS

I got an email from my friend Chris today who has a deep appreciation for what he calls my “Fuck that shit” attitude, encouraging me to keep writing despite sometime overwhelming feelings of “what’s the point of it all anymore?” I had talked to him before about trying to figure out what this blog is or should be “about”. I’m still figuring it out, but I think it works best as a mish mash. I told him I ought to write a blog called “Fuck That Shit” in which I bitch (my expertise) about, well, whatever annoys or pisses me off. It could become my catch phrase, my “Are you having a laugh?” It would sweep the nation. It would be on t-shirts and bumper stickers and they could make a doll of me that, when you squeeze it, says “Fuck that shit.” Well, I don’t know about all that, but I do think that I will be incorporating FTS as a regular feature of the blog. I had thought I would try to keep the blog somewhat respectable so that it might be useful in the search for freelance work, but you know what I have to say to that? That’s right, fuck that shit. (Don’t worry you’ll catch on.) So Ducky, this FTS is for you. Thanks.