The Beauty Of Facebook

I admit it. I am addicted to Facebook. It is a brilliant idea. I get to sit on my couch in my jammies and keep in touch with my friends. With jobs, kids, and time differences, phone calls are basically out of the question. I am never more in demand than when I pick up the phone and dial someone. Suddenly, my kids are the paparazzi and I am Katie Holmes. They climb all over me, demanding food, the answer to life mysteries, potty help, etc. And, the best part of Facebook, for me, is that I can read posts, think out and ponder my witty, inspirational, intelligent comments. No blurting things out without thinking or out of nervousness. I do not do well in large crowds. Or small crowds, for that matter. I get nervous and blurt, ramble or babble incoherently. And for some odd reason, silences or gaps in the conversation freak me out and I rush to fill them. And do so very badly. Paul swears that my tombstone will read "Was that out loud? Oops". I disagree with anyone who says it is impersonal. Have you read or seen some of the weird, overly personal and downright inappropriate things people post? I love that I get to keep in touch with my nieces and nephews. I get to keep in touch with people I otherwise would have lost touch with years ago. The downside is that strange and random acquaintances crawl out of the woodwork and want to befriend you solely on the fact you coexisted in high school at the same time. These are the same people that never gave you the time of day back then. But now, they are Facebook friend collectors. If I can't pick you out of a line-up or we never had a conversation in person, please do not send me a friend request. The other downside is that insecure and neurotic people like me do not like reading about and seeing photos of fun things that everyone but me scored an invite to. Maybe I am not invited to all the cool events because everyone on Facebook knows I like to sit around in my jammies.