Can I? Can I do that thing? The complaining about Facebook thing, here, in my blog?
Sure, why not. No one's reading anyway. I might as well run down a list of my sexual fantasies. I won't, but I might as well.
And that is not the vodka and gin talking.
So, Facebook. Constantly, it has this list of People You May Know, and I check out this list, and people fall into three categories: People I have no freakin' idea who they are (80%), People I'm aware of but do not wish any contact with (18%), and Oh awesome I remember them (2%). Regardless of who these people are and how far removed from me they are, Facebook continuously brings them up to my attention, clearing its throat softly, and asking whether I'd like to be friends with them now.
NO I WOULD NOT.
I would have Friended (thank you, Living Language) by now if I did. In all likelihood I would have remembered their name from my dimly perceived past and sought them out of my own volition. I don't need Facebook's self-serving obsequiousness suggesting, "Well, you know, like, 20 of your friends know this person, maybe you should be friends with her too." Totally neglecting the fact that I tried to meet her while I worked at the Renaissance Festival and she totally dissed me. She totally let me know that I was beneath her station, and now she's all "we should be friends," and I'm all, "whatever, you're the obese vampire from Renaissance Festival." You know? I'm not into bandwagoning, I don't buy into it. Just because over 20 of my friends experienced a lapse in judgment or found it momentarily profitable to encourage rather than dissuade a shallow acquaintance, Facebook, that does not mean I wish to establish a connection with this person.
Man, I got some good vodka. I'm recommending Death's Door Vodka. It mixes well, but by itself it's slightly salty or beefy, so I think it would be an excellent component of the Bullshot, which is vodka and beef bouillon. It is the delicious, non-sweet, anti-girly drink you've been craving. You can't--or shouldn't--pour the booze straight into the beef stew, but you can mix yourself up the tasty little Bullshot. And then my friends Nick & Molly got me Crystal Skull Vodka, modeled after the very same mysterious crystal skull that haunted my imagination when I was a friendless, loveless teenager in high school. It's a beautiful vessel and the vodka is light and tasty to boot. And Eric and Suzanne got me Beefeater Gin, which is just a good, solid, upright staple of the liquor cabinet, so I did pretty well this birthday season. I also have a lot of wine and I'm not a big wine drinker but it's important to be able to drink any alcohol in a pinch.
As it is, it's Friday night and I've had a good, solid week of work all day and domestic labors at night. My birthday's been postponed until the beginning of May, when it will coincide with my graduation party, but I had my wedding anniversary and two Passover dinners, one of which was hosted at my house. Oh man, Clear Water Action (or whatever) called me on the phone and they're all, "We just wanted to tell you that your money helped scrub oil off of little duckies and we preserved a section of pond and all this good stuff," and I tried not to yell at the guy but sternly informed him, "Listen, I'm trying to serve fourteen people for dinner," and he apologized and hung up. Later, I realized I meant to say, "I'm serving dinner for fourteen people." The way I said it makes me sound like one hungry, hungry cannibal, and that would make the second cannibalism joke I've made at a political canvasser's expense. The first was when this guy from Second Harvest came to the door and I invited him him and he said that was friendly and I said it wasn't every day free-range meat walked right into my house. He laughed a little but he stopped blinking and kept his back to the wall.
I might as well complain about Open Salon since I'm in such a complainy mood. It is such a freakin' clique over there. There are certain authors that everyone links to, and they're on everyone's Friends pages, and they're not even that good. Yes, I said it. I'm not even talking about typographical errors and punctuation: their ideas are BAD. They have terrible ideas! They phrase them poorly and back them up even worse. And then the most surprising people agree with them. There's this one guy who's all "men are only allowed to do what I think is right and everyone should oppress everyone who disagrees with me, oh, and women shouldn't have jobs and should only cook and wear skirts." And intelligent men are saying, "ha ha, yeah, you're totally right," and altie-chicks and pagan chicks are saying, "I've missed you so much! I'm so glad you're back!"
And I'm all, "Hey, wait a minute, that's a particularly unevolved take on gender roles, and who the hell are you to tell people how to live? Who are you to advocate violence over a matter of aesthetics?" And everyone's ganging up on ME. Also, he used a word very wrongly and I corrected him on it, and he claims he's right but the OED says he's wrong, and he also says he didn't say any of the things he wrote. It's a profoundly frustrating conversation, but that's what you get when you mix it up with Republicans and Conservatives. The best thing to do is open up a bottle of gin and one of Orangina or blood orange soda and just play World of Warcraft until two in the morning.
Well, to hell with it. I went through and cleaned out my Contacts list of all the detritus, and now I'll post whatever crap I feel like on Open Salon, not just my best material or most considered reflections. I mean, anyway, I can pour my heart and talent into a post there, and it totally gets overlooked. What gets the votes and viewings? Some sub-literate rant about cats or Satan or something. It drives me nuts, and I have to learn not to care. It's just another clique.
Update: Comments closed because this post is attracting a lot of idiots. Facebook is a free service and I say, "You get what you pay for."