The First Great American Hotdog Launch was created and hosted by my fabulous friend Erin. Unfortunately, Marc & I were unable to attend this competition of ingenuity and might, and were forced to hold our own tournament.
The same guy that once said to me: "You're really pretty, but it's because of your personality," also once told me: "You know, you really could afford to talk more." I wanted to tell him that he really could afford to talk less. But he was my boyfriend's best friend, and I didn't want to start a fight, even though that boy was the King of back-handed compliments. Nevertheless, that comment has always stayed with me.
To this day, I often wonder if I'm expressing myself enough, or if I really could "afford" to say more. I used to be a shy kid, but I'm pleased to say that the more life I've experienced, the more confident and emboldened I've become. These days when I have something to say in a social or classroom setting, I generally say it. I have even reached a certain level of confidence where, although I'm not clever enough to do this often, I'll say something slightly off - that will, at the very least, make one person in the room smile to themselves while purposely avoiding eye contact. It feels good.
I am very aware that on occasion, things I say aren't always as hilarious to other people as they are in my head. But that awareness, I've decided, is just the price of individuality. I've discovered that it's extremely satisfying to knock my own socks off - everyone else is just a bonus. I also seem to have unconsciously made it a goal to become really good at witty banter. I'm still working on it, but paired up with the core personal belief that I'm actually really quite hilarious, I'm sure I'll go far.
The fact of the matter is, if you think I'm less than mildly entertaining, then it just means you don't know me very well. I am most definitely more than mildly entertaining. In fact, I constantly remind my husband that he is severely missing out by not staying abreast on every word I type on my various stay-at-home-mom social outlets such as Facebook, Google Talk and Twitter (follow me, if you dare: melbohn). When he finally catches up, I do declare he is never disappointed. Neither am I.
I ditched my blog for Facebook. I didn't mean to, it just sort of happened. The reason being: it's easy. Facebook, for those who are completely clueless, is the lazy man's blog. And it's the most major networking site this side of the World Wide Web. You can post pictures, write on peoples "walls", post links, "poke" people, become a fan of stuff, post ranting notes, and update your status every second. You can do all the same stuff you do with a blog, but have a much larger audience because Facebook alerts all of your buddies on your slightest moves. What's that? Sort of sounds like a subdued form of stalking? That's because it is. On Facebook, you stay connected with your own circle of "friends," i.e., everyone you've met in your life that you don't mind following your every move with bated breath (friends like me). Furthermore, by accepting your friendship, these chums have extended to you the same invitation: Frisk me, baby.
One advantage to staying home with a 2-year-old all day is that I am always within 20 feet of my computer screen. I can hear every alert of a new email or message the moment it comes into my little baby's (laptop's) awareness. Facebook very kindly notifies me every time one of my friends pays attention to me in written form. At which point, I rush to see what was said in my honor. What I am blissfully unaware of, however, is what else they are looking at, reading and thinking. It is best, and safest, to assume EVERYTHING.
This is my confession: Facebook has turned me into a stalker. It's one thing to cruise through friends' blogs, read their posts and leave the occasional comment, but it's another to stay logged in all day and read every news feed that pops up - on the average of every second. And then to read every status update, note, picture comment or wall-to-wall conversation that looks somewhat interesting. This is what is stalker-ish about the whole thing. Do they really know I'm reading their conversations with other people? And scrolling back in time to read their previous statuses and comments? And looking at any picture they've posted or album they've been 'tagged' in? And scanning their friends to see who their friends' friends are?? I assume no one cares, or else they would be more private; besides, they probably do the same things themselves. Also, unlike blog surfing, you can't track on Facebook which IP address has been perusing your profile, but you can take comfort in knowing that your stalkers are only those you've invited into your personal life (although considering some of the randoms I've friended, maybe this isn't such a comfort). Still, does this type of behavior seem odd to anyone else? Does it matter? Are we all on huge ego trips and just flattered by the attention - assuming anyone else would be as well?
Okay, I do have a life. I'm not completely absorbed by the lives of others; I'm just really excited to keep in touch with people. Besides, it makes for great interactive reality web-tv. I often wonder, however, where exactly that line is that separates social networking from obsession. Because I get the impression that it's pretty thin.
