This past weekend, I signed up for Facebook. I see what makes it so much fun and appealing. In less than a week, I have ‘reconnected’ with lost high school friends, found out that my best friend from high school is also going to be spending Thanksgiving in NYC for the Macy’s Day Parade this year (SO ARE WE! Isn’t that wonderfully ironic and strange?), communicated with other friends daily that I usually only see once or twice a week, posted pictures of my itty bitty so others can see her and coo over her, and gotten great advice on how to grow basil since I can’t seem to get it right no matter what I do (seriously, how do you kill basil. Herbs are dummy proof). I called my mom last night all excited and told her she had to sign up for this. It was a must, must, must – she would have so much fun, etc. (I realized the absurdity of the moment while living it, don’t worry.)
There are some odd things about it that I don’t get. It is addicting. I do check it much more often than I am proud to admit. Also, I’ve changed my profile picture already because I guess that’s what people do on Facebook. I have received invitations to events that I would not have otherwise known about, remembered birthdays that I would have forgotten, and I have learned a lot about the youth we interact with each week. All in all, it was a success. Now if I could redirect my effort and harness the time to get my book written and learn how to speak Spanish, then I would be well rounded and useful to society. Until then, I’ll see you on Facebook!