Friday Favorites, vol. 62, a day late

1. babies in sunnies







2. school supplies





I wish I loved organizing as much as I love school supplies.
This year, my goal is for my desk drawer to look like this:


3. happy hours







4. marathons
(You probably know that I'm not talking about this kind of marathon.) Living without cable is pretty great. Between Netflix, iTunes and the good old-fashioned library, we watch the shows we want instead of mindless noise.








5. board games
Sometimes I force my friends and family to play board games. Is that bad?

Things...

I want to do:
1. ride our new scooter.


2. watch marathons on Netflix.


3. read.


4. take an afternoon nap.


5. get a hammock and then hang it in the trees in the backyard. Read and/or take a nap in said hammock.


Things...
I don't want to do:
1. work.
2. organize the spare room.
3. go grocery shopping.
4. do laundry.

In fact, I don't want to do these things so much, that they don't even deserve pictures.

Confessions of an over-thirty.

1. I sometimes forget my age.

2. I love to knit.

3. I had to switch to Sensodyne.

4. I relish quiet.

and perhaps most horrifying of all:
5. Today my tights got a teeny bit droopy around the ankles.

Forget over-thirty. These sound like the confessions of a senior citizen. Doesn't that qualify me for a discount at Hill Country Weavers?

To submit to Lamebook, or not to submit?

Do you all know about Lamebook? A friend from work first told me about it when we were internet deprived at a training this summer, and while it's often raunchy and completely offensive, it's also sort of shocking in a trainwreck way. Like that Housewives of New Jersey show.


(Don't you get the distinct impression that they photographed them one by one and them shopped them together, because they'd never actually stand that close to each other without ripping each other's hair out? But I digress.)

Today, an old friend posted a Facebook status about her children's poo. It included information from not just one of her children's poo, but both of their poo. It was gross. It was shocking. It was borderline-fecophiliac. And sure, it was an overview of events that actually took place, but does that make it OK to post on FB?

Now I'm torn because the post itself is perfect for Lamebook. And if she's willing to share her story, shouldn't others out there benefit from its foulness? This is really a philosophical question for the social media age.



In the meantime, I'd like to propose
A couple recommended guidelines in regard to Facebook status posting:

1. Save the stories about children's (or adult) bodily functions for the doctor. We've all seen the book Everybody Poops, and it works best as a generalization, not a detailed account.

2. After more than two alcoholic beverages, refrain from posting anything to FB, period. Your inner concept of what is funny and what is depressing may be askew. Wait until the morning. While we're at it, step away from any phone, texting device, or camera.

3. Unless the goal is to stir things up, avoid the topics your mama said to avoid on a first date: money, politics, religion.

4. Read the entire status update out loud-- can it be read without gasping for breath? If not, it's probably too long.

5. Save the "LOL"s for an IM conversation.

I'm sure there are other good rules for writing FB status updates. Please comment, if you want, so we can add to them. For everyone's sake!



P.S. As of now, I haven't submitted my old friend's horrific status to Lamebook. What do you think? Would you submit it, if you were in my place?

Gotta get myself connected.

You guys. I'm out of town at a week-long training and the hotel doesn't have free wifi. So I thought, "Sure. I'm strong. I can handle this. It's only five days, right?"



Not so much. I've found that I need the internet. I need to be connected. I need to be able to chat, to blog and check the blogs of others, to look incessantly at Facebook where I can read silly updates from friends I had in junior high, to at a moment's notice reference IMDB, Amazon, Twitter, Awkward Family Photos, Goodreads, Modcloth, and most of all, Netflix Watch Instantly.



I need, if I want, to be able to watch the Tupperware Judge Judy (and show it to my friend/coworker/hotel roomie, who had never seen it).
I need these things. And I'm not ashamed.



No, I've never cared much for sports, but what if I really, really wanted to check in with the World Cup that's taking over the...well... World? How would I do that without the internet?

When my friend/coworker/hotel roomie tells me about amazing websites like Post Secret, I need to have access to them right away.

I only made it one day, you guys. Internet is $9.95 a day. And may I just say that a wave of relief washed over me when I clicked online? It felt so right.
Will I be able to slowly wean myself off?
Do I need a full-on intervention?
Should I be next in line for You're Cut Off?
Thoughts?



P.S. Charlie bit my finger. See? Another reason I need the internet.