Clarification on Facebook Post

I do not mind if my blog friends add me as friends to their facebook. Not at all!

What I object to is when Facebook all of a sudden suggests a friend and the only way I know them is through my blog. This has happened three times. The first time I kind of blew it off. It is a blog I read whose author happens to be have had a book published. I have his book on my wish list on Shelfari. I had personally linked my Shelfari to my Facebook account so I explained away the suggestion. The next two times, I didn’t have any link to the person except through my blog. So, I started wondering how Facebook finds suggested friends. Oh, I know about the people who graduated from the same place I did. I know that since many of my family have linked to me with “Relative Request” their other relatives will come up as suggested friends. I even understand that if 5 of my cousins have “friended” a person, that person is likely to come up on my friend suggestion. But, the people I only know through blogging, I suspect that Facebook somehow scans the cookies on my computer.

Finally, I am not so freaked out that I have quit using Facebook. It just makes me more aware that the Internet is really not a very private neighborhood.

Facebook

I have been on facebook for 2 months. I still don’t know what to think about it. I have a cousin who has been on 2 mini vacations. He goes to musicals, concerts, and amusement parks. Another cousin and his wife just got back from a Country Music Festival. When I lived in San Antonio, my roommate had a young daughter. The daughter is 17 now. She left yesterday for a trip to Australia. When some people update their status, they actually have something to say. What is interesting about, Julie “is drinking a cup of coffee and checking her email, blog and facebook,” Julie “finally finished cutting out the paper piecings for the craft we are doing today for home school,” or Julie “has to climb Mt. Washmore. Either that or go to Walmart and buy her husband clean underwear?” I really don’t think anyone cares. But, then one of my friends writes something completely ordinary and I think, “Ah. I am normal. Most of the people I know live the exact same boring, day-to-day, bill-paying, house-cleaning, child rearing life I do.” It is some how comforting to know that.

I actually feel a little twilight-zonish, in a big brother is watching kind of way, about managing my friend’s list. Nine-eight percent of the people on my friends list are relatives. They are not anxiety producing. In fact, we have used the facebook connection to plan a get together that wasn’t precipitated by a funeral. I loved that! Then, there are a few friends from high school. I don’t mind adding them either. It is kind of nice to know whatever happened to them. Oh, and I reconnected with two really good friend who I had kind of lost contact with. One I could have found easily enough. I knew her married name and where she was living. The other one though, Shari, was my best friend from Girl Scouts. We hadn’t talked to each other for over 20 years. Both of us had changed our names and have moved all over the US.  I loved, loved, loved that! But, I have recently started adding a few of the people I have met through blogging. You all are the ones who are producing a bit of anxiety. Every once in awhile, I sign on to facebook and I see your photo with the suggestion that I add you as a friend. To clarify, I do consider you all friends and I don’t really mind you all knowing that I don’t have a life. I do mind that you came up on my friend suggestion list. My only connection to you is my blog. I suspect that facebook reads my computer’s cookies. It is just freaky to know how much a site can learn about you when you log in.

While I am complaining about friends lists, I got a friend request from someone I was pretty sure I didn’t know. I didn’t want to blow off someone who I sat next to every day in Algebra III/Trig because I forgot him. So, before ignoring the request, I pulled out an old year book and looked him up. Sure enough, he wasn’t there. I don’t really want people I have known professionally reading about my personal life. It is just the way I am. Besides, I didn’t remember his name or recognize his face. Why in the world would you send a friend request to someone you have never, ever met? Is there a prize for having the biggest friends list? Do you really want to know that someone you have never met and never will meet “is making crab cakes and a spinach salad for dinner tonight?”

Still, the connecting part is great! But, it appears that there are a lot of plain folks like me who don’t really have anything to write about on their status. They play games instead. Several of my cousins and a couple of my friends from Washington are very in to Farm Town. I was invited to play. I played it. I didn’t think I got it. Oh, I got that I can send and receive gifts from other people. I got that I must forever plow, plant and harvest crops.  I see the scores on some peoples farms and know that some people spend a lot of time on this application. When Farm Town was down recently, several people updated their comment section with complaints of Farm Town withdrawal. But I didn’t get it. That is until my husband’s aunt called and invited us to the movies. My first thought was that the movie started at the exact same time my grapes ripened and I hoped they didn’t go to waste before I got home. Someone truly addicted might have skipped the movie. I just hoped.

Oh, and does anyone care what my IQ is, what dead celebrity I am most like, or what I would look like if I were a cartoon? If I weigh the good with the bad, joining facebook has been a positive experience.

Just About 24-months Ago

I wrote this:

You see ~ I have a long-term problem with procrastinating. This weekend I was motivated by a strong desire to avoid a crisis. So, finally, I attacked something I have been avoiding for simply months: almost 24-months to be exact. I had to earn 24 continuing education units in nursing to maintain my Registered Nurse license.

I could have made the title of this entry, “Oops! I did it again!” I had until June 30th to complete 24-hours of nursing education so that I can maintain my nursing license. So, last Tuesday I stayed up late searching the Internet for a class. I tried finding classes on fetal alcohol syndrome. I tried finding a pharmacology class on psychiatric medications. I looked in vain for a class on pediatric liver disease. Those classes I could use for the life I am living today. But, either there wasn’t a class on that topic, or it was accompanied by so few contact hours that I would have had to take more than one class to fulfill the obligation.

Anyway, I chose a class called Healing Nutrition. The class was worth a full 24 contact hours. I could take the test on-line and get immediate feedback. Oh, and the overnight shipping rates were very, very reasonable, much less than paying a late fee to the state of Minnesota for renewing my license past the deadline. And, I had hoped, I could use the knowledge now. Almost everyone in our family would benefit from better nutrition.

• I had a complete physical in June. My fasting blood sugar was 99 mg/dL (normal is 70-100 mg/dL). I passed by the skin of my teeth. I have a very strong family history of Type II diabetes. Obviously, I need to change my eating habits.
• Beverly’s last biopsy was full of good and bad news. First, the good news. There is no scarring (permanent damage) on Beverly’s liver and there is no sign of active virus. The bad news is that her liver is still inflamed. At this time, the doctor’s best guess is that Beverly has developed autoimmune hepatitis. We have stopped the medication that she was taking every day to suppress viral activity and in two-weeks she will have blood work to check her liver function and to test for signs of autoimmune hepatitis. I know it seems odd, but I hope that this is the case. What kind of mother would think it is good news for a child’s body to be treating her own liver like it was a foreign substance to be attacked? I just would rather deal with an out of control immune system that can be supressed than a second undiagnosed, undiagnosable liver disease that has no real treatment. Because, whether I like it or not, something is still going on in her liver and it doesn’t appear to be viral.
• Marissa has lost quite a bit of weight lately. She is at the very bottom of what is a healthy weight for her.
• I have already talked about David’s weight. I am still not worried about his weight right now. But, I suspect he could easily develop a weight problem. You see, he loves to eat. He argued with me the other day when he wanted a snack. I offered a half of a banana or a half a piece of whole wheat bread with peanut butter. He wanted Chee-tohs. “Mom, Chee-kohs are not junk food. There heal-py.” Uh, no they’re not.

The course was beyond useless. Well, that isn’t quite true; it did meet the state law for continuing education that allows me to maintain a license. But, the course itself taught me na-da, zip, zero, nothing-at-all.

Taste drives us to pick certain foods. Evolution formed a powerful connection between our taste buds and our brains, and this happened not in the last 100 years but over millions of years. When we each somthing that tastes good, our bodies signal our brains that this food is necessary for survival and our brains tell us yes, that is good, eat more, eat as much as we can, because in the natural world, our next meal may be a long way off.

You see, when I am craving salt, what I am really desiring is the slightly salty taste of roots and nuts. When I want something sweet, I am craving berries. And, when I am craving french fries, I really want wild game instead of buttery cream sauces. This worldview laden introduction was followed by drivel and duh statements. Did anyone not know that a malnourished body is susceptible to infections? Did you need a nursing license to know that? Bet not.

And, I am left scratching my head. Why do lawmakers think this is a reasonable way to assess competency? Have they all been bamboozled by the companies that write and sell these programs? Does my sitting down and reading a poorly written book and answering 100 questions about the content really equal competency to practice nursing? Think about it. Would you rather be cared for by a nurse who worked doing bedside nursing was praised by her patients, peers and managers or a nurse who sat home and answered recall level multiple choice questions?

I concluded that either our elected officials are accepting bribes or they have a very low veiw of nurses indeed. Oh well, I have 2-years before I have to do it again.

When Life Interferes With Blogging

Wow! A week without blogging. This was not a planned blog break, but I did have some fun.

Friday: Ron took the day off so that we could get some jobs done around the house. When an adult has to take an entire morning out of a day to clean her bedroom, there is a problem. First, I clean the upstairs before moving to the basement. Our room is in the basement. Even when I am behaving and on task, I don’t always make it down there. Then, I am not always behaving and on task. I am reading more than I have in the past. I opened a second blog. What was I thinking? Anyway, my room is clean! And, not the surface clean either. The dust bunnies have been evicted from under the dressers, behind the bookcase and under the bed. My husband has allergies. He can sleep in his own bed without symptoms!

While Ron and I were busy in the basement, the kids were not behaving. The phone rang, “This is the 9-1-1 operator. Someone called 9-1-1 from this number, do you have an emergency?” Well, I didn’t. Now, I have to find my children and find out who, what, where, how and (most importantly) why they called 9-1-1. Marissa was not involved in this call in any way, shape or form!

When Ron and I got married, we each had investments that we managed individually. Eight-years later, and they are still like that. It was conceivable if something happened to me Ron wouldn’t have known where my money was. So, we are in the process of “marrying” our finances. I know this should have been done years ago, but we didn’t. Anyway, we were meeting with someone to help us make decisions about our finances; she agreed to come to our home. While she was here, David painted the carpet in front of his closet with red paint.

Saturday: We drove to my inlaw’s farm. David and Beverly “helped” grandpa feed the cows. They just love it there. Ron and I left the kids with them and went on a real, semi-date! It was Ron’s 25th high school reunion. We are such party animals. We were both tired by about 10 and were at Ron’s parent’s home by 11.

Sunday: We drove home. Marissa had stayed up in our home town. She had to work Saturday and so she spent the weekend with Ron’s aunt and uncle. She swam, boated and tanned.

Monday: I did all the chores I usually do over the weekend, including 6 loads of laundry, menu planning and grocery shopping.

Tuesday: I woke up to two wet beds. I know that this will end one day, but it is getting really, really old. Thankfully, Marissa is out of money; it is not pay day. She was almost out of gas. I offered a gallon of gas per bed if she would strip, wash and remake them. She accepted. I did all the chores I usually do on Monday and Tuesday.

Yesterday: My cousin from Illinois was in Minnesota on vacation. When I lived out of state and came up here on vacation, I used to have to drive all over the state visiting. I vowed when I moved home that I would never put anyone else through that. It they travel all day to get here; I can drive to where they are. So, without having had anyone to die, our family got together! All the cousins and aunts and uncles drove to a park and had a picnic. The kids had a great time. There was a swimming area, a playground, and a kind of bathroom. The kind of bathroom had four stalls and about 2 of the toilets worked. The others were full of stool and smelled a lot like an out house.

Yesterday, Marissa drove. We hit the cities at about 3:00 and rush hour had already started to create a bit of traffic. And, her boyfriend called. “Marissa can’t talk; she is driving in traffic.”

“He’s on his break at work. I can’t call him back. I don’t want to drive anymore.”

“Yeah, well get over it and act like a grown-up.” I know that probably wasn’t the warm, supportive response Marissa was looking for.

Gotta run. Beverly is having an emergency. Apparently when we were at the park she stepped in dog poop and there is a “little bit of poop in my shoes.” But, I wanted to add:

“I am trying to make me understand myself, but I can’t” ~ Beverly, age 5.

I hate when that happens.

Power!

The tornado sirens blared. The hail started. From the safety of the basement I waited out the storm. When the tornado warning expired, I walked around and assessed the damage. The family is all safe and sound. The house and cars didn’t sustain any noticeable damage. Hail and plants don’t mix.

We still have plenty of rhubarb! I feel so bad for my husband. I always wrote that we had a garden, but the garden is his baby. He has worked so hard. I hope that some of the plants will recover.