Mistakebook… Enough!

I’ve written about using Facebook in the past here but was asked by someone in Darwin to discuss ‘friend requests” and if you only accept people you really like. Which led me to my September 2011 column in DarwinLife Magazine


When a barman asks what you’d like, he means what DRINK you’d like. Trust me; it’ll save you an awkward conversation. Also, when a barista says “Sugar?” he means do you WANT some, not do you HAVE some. We all make mistakes. Life is tricky, and I nearly gave away my sugar.

So, what’s trickier than life? Facebook! A place where billions of people make mistakes, assumptions and comparisons every day, and some really do give away all their sugar. At first it seemed cool, maybe a bit addictive. But Facebook culture lends itself freely to voyeurism, judgement and oversharing.

Mark Zuckerberg created Facebook to pick up chicks because, horny males: the mother of all invention. But it’s changed. Now it’s something you can use to tell 300 friends you’re in labour. Or in love. Or in-capable of emotion. Or in London getting fresh with Prince Harry.

Pfft! Whatever! In your dreams.  See? Tricky! Here are some more common Facebook mistakes.

Adding friends: Just because we once made out and it was hotter than Ryan Reynolds holding a bottle of absinthe and inviting me into a Jacuzzi full of Epsom salts, doesn’t mean I’m requesting your friendship so we can do it again. I only want to be your friend so I can stalk you when I can’t sleep.  Or… What? Nothing! Also, if it takes me more than a day to accept your request, I’m probably not that interested… but might accept later on not to be a rude cow, incase you know someone I actually like and tell them – I’m a rude cow. Either way! It’s not called Like-book.

Rejecting friend requests: Obviously you did something creepy that I can’t look past. Or you support Collingwood. It doesn’t make me a bitch, or you a loser. Que será, mi amor. Well that’s what I told myself when Matt Damon rejected me. It’s not Popularity-book.

Deleting friends: ‘Cleaning your profile’ as a reason for deleting friends is essentially saying, you’re rubbish, bugger off. I’ve only ever deleted one person, and that scheming worthless hack knew she had it coming. I think deleting people is mean. It’s a person! Not some shoes you don’t want anymore. Fickle-book, maybe.

Comments: When your self-esteem is directly proportional to the number of ‘likes’ or comments you get, you know it’s time to converse in the real world. Insecure-book?

Profile picture: If you’ve had some professional photos taken and you use that for your profile – you wanker! Oh wait, I do that. Well at least it’s me, not my: car, pet, tattoo, cleavage, feet, a celebrity, or taken in 1997.  It’s not Guess-who-book.

Groups: Be careful. You and your 5 members might offend someone; enough to sue for fifty grand. Joke? No. Ridiculous? Yes. Almost Defamation-book.

Games: I do not want to play Cityville, Castleville, Farmville, Annoyingville or something called Fruit Ninja Frenzy. I had one of those once and afterwards, I had the hiccups for days. However I think I could get into the game Howzat Cricket. I feel it’s the only sport that prioritises lunch.

Status updates: Life is NOT a dress rehearsal for your Facebook updates. Nobody wants to know what you’re doing every minute. Stop it!  Keep your clean house, your headache, your dry cuticles, your cheese sandwich, your hangover, your new oven or what’s inside it to yourself. Also… Kids are cute and hilarious. But they’re yours not mine, so keep the sleeping/eating/pooping routine in the family. It’s not called Mother-book.

The truth is Facebook is a brilliant way to keep in touch with all kinds of people from our lives – past and present.  It’s one of the best ways to vent, share ideas, gain support and actually – laugh at life.  It’s a great way to share photos so I can see if after you dumped me and got married your kids turned out ugly, and it’s invaluable for making contact. However; if we’re Facebook friends, and you are gulity of any of the above – consider this your written warning. I may not delete you, but I’ll ‘hide’ you. Probably forever, and you’ll never know. Just ask Mark Zuckerberg; it’s not called Nice-book.  Zuckers!


My ON-LINE birthday.

Last Monday was my birthday, and I am now closer in age to 50 than I am 21. I know, SHOCKING! Anyway, I woke up and it was like any other day – not even a well wish from my husband who I had stupidly decided to pick a fight with the night before (his fault though).

Word of warning: When you pick a fight with your partner on the eve of your birthday, don’t expect to get inundated with gifts and kind words and birthday kisses. Eight hours sleep won’t make them forget you called them a thoughtless bonehead and then listed all the ways they have proven this fact in the last six months…..

So at about 11.30am following my morning routine with my toddler, I was pleasantly surprised when he arrived home with gifts (from him and my daughter) and a vanilla slice from the best café in Darwin.   Then I was surprised again when (probably because we had visitors), I had the long lost experience of blowing candles out on a cake that night after the best pizza ever for dinner.

But mostly I was surprised by the gifts.I’ve shared my sentiments on gift giving here, and included my husband’s philosophy on gift giving, which is: Why bother!!

Want an example? (And trust me, he’s so blasé  about it… in fact practically proud of his stance on gift giving that he would not mind, let alone be humiliated, that I share this snippet with the on-line world…) Last Mother’s Day I woke up to nothing except a mumbled “Happy Mother’s Day” whilst still waking up in bed. There’s a good chance he considered that, combined with placing his hand on my boob, foreplay. But anyway….

As the morning progressed I realised there was nothing more coming. No invitation to breakfast, no breakfast in bed, no gifts, no flowers, no chocolates, nothing. By 10am when I realised Macca’s breakfast would be ending in half an hour, I ordered him to drive to McDonald’s and get me some Hotcakes. Stat.

“Why?” was his response.
“Well because it’s mother’s day and you haven’t bought me anything!”
“You’re not my mother!” he said.
(SIGH…. ) “NO but I’m the mother of your only daughter!!!”
“I know, and I can’t believe how stingy she was to not get you anything!” he said, now giggling.

At the time my daughter was 19 months old. And as you can see my husband places no value on thinking about, then purchasing and wrapping a gift. I will say he did EVERYTHING that day. The only fingers I lifted were the ones used to eat my hotcakes, (yes I got them) and maybe a couple earlier on behind his back….

So you can imagine my surprise when for my birthday last week I actually got gifts – wrapped and everything. And they weren’t bad gifts either. Pretty good. In fact I can only fault him in one area – and this is really the crux of my issue. NO BIRTHDAY CARD!

But how can I be upset when NOBODY gave me cards. Except my grandmothers. And that’s saying everything. Because my grandmothers don’t have mobile phones to text me. And they’re not on Facebook or twitter to send me a message.

And this is why gift cards have become benign.

Growing up, I would start getting cards a few days before the big day. I’d display them on the shelf in the lounge room where everyone could see. Pretty cards or cards from people I loved most would have prime position on the shelf. On the actual day, the shelf would be so crammed with cards; I’d struggle to fit them all on so the front was displayed. And then in the days that followed there’s undoubtedly be a few more.

Perhaps this is where I got the idea that birthdays go for a week. Because when you’re young – they really do!

And this morning, a week after my birthday, I took down the 3 birthday cards that I have. I’ll keep them. I keep all my cards. Sentimental? Yes. Hoarder? Possibly. But do I ever pull them out to read? Can’t say I do.

Because that would involve rummaging through boxes and bags to find them and that’s too hard. And yet how easy is it for me to go onto Facebook and look through older posts to see the many lovely and thoughtful wishes I received on my birthday from friends and family. SO easy! And how much profit did Australia Post make from that? Niente!

So my prediction is that greeting cards will become a thing of the past. In fact by the time my generation are over 75 years old (and that’s still ages away OKAY….) The shelves reserved for greeting cards will be taken over by a new type of computer program. It will be brilliant because it will download onto your phone or computer and remember birthdays and prompt you to type in a message 3 days before, which you can accompany with a little picture, and on that day it will automatically send it to the person, and that will be it.

Actually there’s probably something like that already. And the really good thing about it is you don’t have to leave the house, and stand in front of a card shelf for ages trying to work out if that’s too cheesy, or too rude, or too sappy to send. And you don’t have that issue where you like the picture, but not the words. Like the card I wanted to buy for my father in law’s 60th which had a picture of an old man on a bike and a quote from George Burns about getting older. And then inside it read, “After all these years, no matter how old… I still love you.”

Despite all this, I’m still a loyal devotee to the gift card. Perhaps not for all occasions, but definitely for some. Like weddings, new babies and christenings, and any other occasion where you want to write more than one paragraph or you need somewhere to stash the gift voucher.

What I doubt I’ll see in the future is love letters and romantic gift cards that say I love you. My first serious boyfriend sent me one practically every week. I still have them somewhere. One day I’ll show my kids. I’ll relive memories of young love and of stupid love. And I’ll tell them all about the days before mobile phones and hand-held computer software and how one particular boyfriend drove all the way to my house to hand deliver a card and a red rose, and simply handed them to me then walked away… and they’ll be amazed.

“Wow,” they’ll say. “What a waste of fossil fuel. What a waste of paper!”

Is life a dress rehearsal for your next Facebook status update?

Ok. Before I commence writing I need to make one thing clear. I DO NOT intend to offend or belittle ANY one of my gorgeous Facebook (or Twitter) friends. The way people choose to update their status says a lot about them and I am in no way about to suggest that anyone I know should change their social networking habits.

That said…. WHAT the HELL is with some people’s updates?  (haha)

I was inspired to make comment on the way we update our Facebook status after a comment my big brother made. He’s new to Facebook, he joined  less than 3 months ago. Anyway, so he made a light hearted comment about some people filling up his home page with updates like, “just ate a cheese sandwich, now time to clean the plate and knife.”

Keep in mind that while suffering from the Man Flu, he updated his status every day with comments like :

  • Day 1: 350 Kleenex, 11 Lem-sip sachets, 3 tins of soup, 1 bottle scotch…
  • Day 3: It’s not easy being green.

However: even though he kept me updated on his daily regime during his immense period of suffering, it was a time in his life that was not the norm. Being sick was not his daily routine, it was something different and unpleasant that he was experiencing at that specific time.

Eating a cheese sandwich? Well unless you’re allergic to bread, or it was soft cheese and you’re pregnant, or you’re anorexic and haven’t eaten in 2 months, or you had your wisdom teeth out and haven’t been able to chew for 8 days….

Ho hum. Big woop.

There are no rules for updating your Facebook status, but I do find the ones that I tend to click ‘Like’ on, are those that tell me something I didn’t know about you, or that are funny, or that make me miss you and wish I could be there, or that are simply – genius.

You’ve no doubt seen the groups lobbying for a ‘Dislike’ button on Facebook. I would prefer one that says, ‘Not interested.’ Sounds mean, but it could actually come in handy to those who tell you they want to share some of their home grown goods with you from Farmville.

My theory is that some poeple spend so much time ‘checking’ Facebook that they just want to be part of it, and becuase they don’t have anything to write of much importance, end up contributing ‘blah’ simply for the sake of being ‘present.’ It can get quite addictive. Especially if you get comments from your updates.

I guess what I’m suggesting here is that we save our Facebook updates for information that is either entertaining, devastating, relevant, newsworthy, instructional, inspiring, exciting, dreadful, or informative.

Eating a cheese sandwich and cleaning up afterwards is none of the above. Unless you live in Haiti.

I’m guilty of such updates myself.

For example, I once wrote:  CINDY just downloaded the Glee app.
Not Interested…

But saying: CINDY is devastated. Still at dinner and missing Glee final!
Relevant, newsworthy, informative, dreadful and of course, devastating.

This one? CINDY is getting stuff DONE finally…
Not interested…

But this one:  CINDY is having a lovely ladies day…. A flurry of feathers, frocks and fascinators.
Entertaining, relevant, newsworthy, exciting, and informative.

And this one: CINDY wants to throw something – hard, so it smashes. Actually towards someone’s face would be even better.
Um, ok that’s just scary.

It seems the key to keeping it alive on Facebook is minimising the number of updates, which perhaps means disconnecting. Stepping away from the computer. Learning to live and experience the day to day occurrences without consulting an online network every step of the way; be it Facebook, Twitter or My Space.

(I should note that iPhones have made internet access so easy, it’s hard NOT to check every 5 minutes, but it can be done.)

Susan Maushart, the author of The Winter Of Our Disconnect wrote all about her and her family’s experience and experiment with switching off the digital media.

In an exerpt from the Daily Telegraph, she writes:

 At ages 14, 15 and 18, my daughters and my son don’t use media. They inhabit media. And they do so exactly as fish inhabit a pond. Gracefully. Unblinkingly. And utterly without consciousness or curiosity as to how they got there.

They don’t remember a time before email, or instant messaging, or Google. Even the media of their own childhood – VHS and dial-up, Nintendo 64 and “cordful” phones – they regard as relics, as quaint as inkwells.

When my children laugh, they don’t say “ha ha”, they say “LOL”. In fact, they conjugate it. (“LOL at this picture before I Photo-shopped your nose, Mum!”)

They download movies and TV shows as casually as you or I might switch on the radio. And when I remind them piracy is a crime, they look at one another and go “LOL”.

For 8-18-year-olds, media use is not an activity, it’s an environment: pervasive, invisible, shrink-wrapped around pretty much everything kids do and say and think. How adaptive an environment is the question – and the answer, not surprisingly, seems to depend entirely on whom you ask.

‘The Winter Of Our Disconnect’ started out as a kind of purge. It ended up as so much more. Long story short: our digital detox messed with our heads, our hearts and our homework. It changed the way we ate and the way we slept, the way we “friended”, fought, planned and played. It altered the very taste and texture of our family life. Hell, it even altered the mouth-feel.

In the end, our family’s self-imposed exile from the Information Age changed our lives indelibly – and infinitely for the better.

Truth – I could not do that. Switch off for 6 months? No way. And I’m not even aged 8-18, but I definitely have phases where I inhabit digital media. It’s hard not to when you work from home.

I wonder what would happen if I took a 6 month leave of absence from Facebook. Would I talk to people in person more? Yes. Would I make an effort to see those who live close more? Yes. Because Mark Zuckerberg was right when he said Facebook connects you.

It totally connects you – to friends new and old, AND family – and it’s fabulous to be able to share photos, and videos, and snippets of news from our lives that we might not consider worth a phone call.

No. I wouldn’t call someone to tell them I’m at dinner and missing the final episode of Glee. But I shared that info on Facebook and received an abundance of supportive and funny and helpful comments telling me how good it was, and where I could view it. Plus it also prompted a little humorous banter, which helped make the whole ordeal less devastating.

Best of all… Facebook, Twitter etc.. are FREE! Interstate and international phone calls are not.

So clearly, I’m not suggesting we be like Susan Maushart and disconnect for long periods. I’m simply saying we should keep the updates to a minimum. Use that time to experience life beyond what you ate for lunch, and when something amazing or sad or monumental, or funny or unbelievable or frustrating happens – tell us!

And now, I’ll leave you with some hilarious updates that have been recorded.

  • is showing his colleagues your profile and they’re all laughing at your picture.
  • is being interviewed on his new novel “Sweet and Sour Pork: How Can It Be Both? At The Same Time?” 
  • is wondering if his new research grant will accept his thesis, “Whoops!: I Blew My £800,000 Research Grant At The MGM Grand Casino” 
  • is an enigma, wrapped in a riddle, nestled in a sesame seed bun of mystery. 
  • understands that hard work has a future pay off but Laziness pays off now. 
  • pretends to work. They pretend to pay me. 
  • is thinking that this isn’t an office. It’s Hell with fluorescent lighting. 
  • childproofed his house, but they still get in. 
  • thinks at her age, “getting lucky” means finding her car in the parking lot.
  • is not a snob. I’m just better than you are. 
  • washes her mouth out with chocolate every time she hears the word “exercise”. 
  • wonders if you hear about the corduroy pillows? They’re making headlines! 
  • wonders if illiterate people get the full effect of Alphabet Soup? 
  • reminds you to not play stupid with me! I’m better at it. 
  • says don’t sweat petty things — or pet sweaty things. 
  • is going to drink wet cement and get really stoned. 
  • is going to have a day of firm decisions! Or am I? 
  • thinks all the world’s a stage. Too bad I missed rehearsal.
  • is going to borrow money from a pessimist. They don’t expect to be paid back. 
  • says blessed are they who go around in circles, for they shall be known as wheels. 
  • is cleverly disguised as a responsible adult. 
  • Thinks some people are like Slinkies – not really good for anything, but you still can’t help but smile when you see them tumble down the stairs. 
  • says “Oh, you hate your job? Why didn’t you say so? There’s a support group for that. It’s called EVERYBODY!”

Girls in White Dresses with Blue Satin Sashes…

You can relax. This isn’t going to be a post all about possibly one of the greatest movies ever made, The Sound of Music. Since I’ve been feeling rather blah! lately, I’ve been thinking about stuff that actually makes me feel good. Things that make me happy. A few of my favourite things.

And since my inspiration has been a lot like Kevin Rudd in the last couple of weeks: Going, going, gone…. I thought writing about my favourite things might make me feel better, and perhaps make you ponder your favourite things.

I should mention, this is not the first time I’ve made a list like this for self-induced therapy. Once after being dumped (I got dumped a fair bit in my late 20’s, no doubt karma for being the dumper in my teens and early 20’s) I made a list of 100 things I was grateful for.  Didn’t make me feel any better. I was still a lonely reject and presumed I was too fat, too ugly, and way too good for him anyway.

But I still have the list and a couple of those items will also be making my favourite things list today.

It’s a short list of 5, and completely and 100% subject to change. Not only because I’m slightly fickle, but also because certain things lose their appeal if they’re overdone.

So I’ll start.


1.       Nutella.

How can I not include Nutella? Particularly as there is a 750gm jar of the stuff sitting between me and the keyboard at this moment. Yes, it’s open. Yes there’s a spoon inside. Yes, in the few short paragraphs I’ve written so far, I’ve managed to take about 6 spoonfuls already. And now perhaps this gives you a better understanding of the term ‘lose appeal if overdone’ because I’m pretty sure by the end of typing here, I’ll be pushing it away in disgust, saying, ‘Uch, no more! What was I thinking?’

But before I get to that point let me tell you why Nutella is so good.

It’s gooey runny nutty smooth chocolate in a jar. Enough said.

2.       MAC Studio Fix

I once visited MECCA Cosmetics in Paddington, Sydney. The male makeup artist who was working that day asked me what I was currently using. I told him Mac Studio Fix. He acted as though I’d just told him I like to crush up dog poo with Vaseline and rub that on … I can kind of understand his reaction. Having worked on a cosmetic counter for 5 years, I know the importance of using dramatics when selling. In fact I probably did the same thing to a lady who told me she never cleaned her face. I was flabbergasted, and so was Phil – the makeup dude at Mecca.

He told me that I should not be using that kind of finish or consistency on my face unless I’m a newsreader. Ok, first of all, how did he know I wasn’t? Second – Do I look like I raided Christina Aguilera’s makeup bag? I mean, it might be on the side of heavy when it comes to coverage, but I have applied with caution and care.

And no offense to Phil, but he was wearing far more makeup than I was at the time. I took his card with his handwritten recommendations for my face away – without purchasing, because as he sampled soft, light, practically transparent little numbers on the back of my hand, I felt like I was cheating on my trusty Mac.

I wondered…

Will Prescriptives give me a free lippy when I bring back 6 empty containers? Can I apply this fluidy NARS stuff on the train? At the traffic lights? Under the table at dinner? In the loos? Can I put on this Stila stuff without getting makeup on my hands? Yes? Oh because I have to apply it with this particular paint brush? (Sigh)

No. I doubt there will ever be anything to replace the love and devotion I have for my Mac compact.  

3.       iPhone.

How did I ever live without it? Is it not the sexiest little gadget you’ve ever held in your hand? Incidentally, if any of you have iPhones, download the Word Game App, and let’s play scrabble. My player name is Cyclone Cindy. Scrabble is a subcategory of my favourite things list. Scrabble is like, the best game invented ever! It tests you on every level and I don’t think I’ve ever felt a greater sense of accomplishment and victory, than the day I wrote QUIZ on a triple word score. Boo-yah!

Back to my phone. Look, if you really want to know what’s so good about it, google it. But I will say how good it is to have one piece of equipment to carry around that you can:  googlewith, visit web sites, check emails, check facebook and twitter, call, text, check calendar, check diary, play music, play videos, download shows, play games, take photos and videos, download photos, etc etc etc. I realise there’s a new one out, but for now I’m extremely happy with mine.

4.       Actil 100% cotton 300 thread count sheets.

Living in Darwin, there’s no need for quilts or doona covers. I make my bed every day with a sheet, and a couple of cushions. White sheets. Only white. Because when we have visitors they are often horrified to discover they have left slightly yellow stains on the pillow case or sheets, from what I call the Darwin Midnight Sweats.  You see, because the minimum temperature is usually around 20 degrees overnight, you can sweat in your sleep.

White sheets can be bleached! That’s why hotels do it, and that’s why I do it. It’s also why I only have 100% cotton. Polyester, Percale, Sateen, etc all ad warmth. The sheets aren’t crisp and crunchy and cold. 100% cotton is.

Why Actil? Well I was a huge fan of Sheridan, but I think the sweat shops they use in China are starting to employ 3 year olds now too. The last set I bought were crooked, and the pillow cases wouldn’t line up seam to seam.  They’re 300 thread count is also not as thick or crisp.

Those sheets make me happy. I’m not very good at going to bed. No matter how tired I am, something compels me to stay up. But those sheets are like Stilnox for me. My brain thinks I’m not tired, but when I climb into that bed with those sheets, my body tells my brain it’s stupid, and passes out within minutes. It’s just wonderful, and perhaps the joy is escalated by the fact that I usually only allow myself 5-6 hours a night of such enjoyment.

Ooh, now I’m feeling sleepy. Time for another spoon of wholesome, chocolatey energy.


5.        I can’t believe I’m saying this… but… My thongs.

I have never really been a fan of wearing thongs. I know that makes me UN Australian, but I just don’t like walking on rubber. I also am not a huge fan of having a toe wedgie. (A barrier between my big and second toe).

However, on a recent trip to Melbourne I found a pair of lovely, comfortable, almost stylish tan leather thongs. They cost a bit more than your average pair of Havaianas. But I have worn them to death. Literally. They died yesterday.

I’m holding a funeral for them at the end of the week, once the autopsy is completed and I have determined what exactly caused them to break. Right now they’re in the shoe box they came in, with all the other shoes, as if nothing is wrong. I’m still in the denial phase of grief.

Perhaps like all things that die, they feel more important and worthwhile once they’re gone. Much like Michael Jackson. And Kevin Rudd.  That old saying, “You don’t know what you got til it’s gone.” Too true. Particularly in the case of my thongs.

Today I felt like going naked. No shoe could possibly deliver the simplicity, comfort or style that that pair of thongs brought to almost any outfit.  What to wear when your shoes are gone?

So that’s my list. My 5 favourite things at the moment.  Do I feel better?

I feel a bit sick from Nutella overload. I feel amazed and very grateful to have such amazing technology at my fingertips. I feel secure in the knowledge that no matter what kind of stunt my face pulls on me, there’ll always be coverage. Always even tones and the appearance of smooth skin.  I feel saddened to have lost some great footwear, but thankful I had a glorious 6 months with them. They took me to some amazing places. 5 different states and all over Bali. And – I feel so happy to know there’s a very comfortable and inviting bed waiting for me, whenever I choose to visit.

Perhaps soon. (yawn).

Of course there are many more things that would qualify as ‘favourites.’ Favourite music, favourite pizza, favourite shops, favourite actors… the list could have been very long, and perhaps I’ll visit this topic again one day under a sub category.

Because when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad, I simply remember my favourite things and then I don’t feel so bad.

(Favourite movie? Yes. One of a few. SUCH a brilliant movie, had to pay a small homage).

So what are your mood enhancing favourite things?

Sit on ‘MY-TWIT-FACE’ and tell me that.

Social networking has taken over. I know this because my 61 year old mother just joined Facebook. When your mother sends you a friend request, she might as well be asking you to clean your room. If you don’t say yes – you’re in trouble!

Not that I’m concerned. I think it’s pretty cool of her, but I’ll be sure to use the word ‘crap’ in place of another 4 letter word that sometimes finds its way onto my wall.

Every now and then I get random friend requests, but Facebook is a sacred place reserved for only those you’ve at least met once, right? MySpace and Twitter are different. I only personally know about 10 people that follow me on Twitter, and I have a sneaky suspicion that most of them are looking for “hot girls in threesomes who love a good time.”

Interestingly, QUIT FACEBOOK day is next Monday – 31st May.

The whole quit craze started over the lack of privacy and difficulty in personalising your privacy settings to prevent strangers or advertisers getting access to your information. For example, I joined the group “I love Perth Summer.” Now on my side panel I get ads about stuff in Perth all the time.

And? So?

At the time of typing this, there are only 15,869 people listed on the site committed to quitting Facebook.  However it was still enough for Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg to make a statement regarding new privacy settings that would be installed.

I just don’t see the big deal. It’s not that hard. If anyone reading this is concerned, click here  and follow the steps.

Anyway, how can I expect my Facebook account to stay completely spam free when I get spam delivered DIRECTLY to me, in my inbox, from total strangers. How can we complain about a networking site not being private enough (a networking site that has some 450 million members) when, I have 3 anti-virus and spam deflecting programs running on my computer – but still get love notes from overseas strangers wanting to meet.

I got one such e-mail last month. I used to get them all the time but they’ve cooled off lately. So this particular e-mail was actually perfect timing since I had been feeling unloved and abandoned by the questionably literate digital masses.

This one was a proposition, from a wordy vixen named Elenna. Anyway, it looks like Elenna wants to get with me. Elenna also seems to think I’m a man. Talk about lack of privacy! I don’t want to think about how Elenna got my email address. I’m wondering if she got it from the guy called Ronnie who emailed me last week wanting to know if I need a diploma. Apparently I deserve it!

However she got my address, I have a few comments about her email below.

Subject: i want to say u hi

Aloha, my dear friend!
Aloha?! If you’re in Hawaii, can you send me one of those coconut bikini tops? I want to try one on and walk into walls.   

I am a calm lady who is very friendly.
You’re opening with the calm thing? Telling me your calm is like telling me your completely sane. It makes you sound… not.

I can easily meet people and I really like to understand people.
Do you understand that people don’t say ‘I want to say u hi’? If you would like to understand me – know this: I don’t like e-mails from strangers!

I do my best to look good and to improve my appearance. I like to dance and to work out in the gym. I love to cook and to read.
Wow, busy girl, but do you work? Or are you going to just hang out at home dancing, cooking and reading while I support us both? Actually now that I think about it, I love to dance, cook and read too. I think we’d get along just fine.

I like classic literature and psychology. I am very conversational and I spend a lot of time talking to friends.
Psychology?  Really? It’s always the calm ones. And these so called ‘friends’ you like talking to? You mean friends like me? Strangers?

My man must be strong and sure of himself.
I’m two out of three on that front. I’m sure that’s fine.

Should be hard working and driven to success but know when to leave the office and come home and relax.
I’m hard working alright! But this ‘driven to success’ thing…. Are you suggesting that I make the money, and then come home and boink you?  My office is AT home, so where does that leave us?

You need to know how to have some good old fun and be a good sport.
Good old fun like gathering around the wireless right before heading out to Bingo? Good old fun like going shopping for “Komfs together?” Or do you mean ‘good sport’ like Matty Johns?

Funny is a plus.
So is grammar, but at this stage I’m thinking you’re funny enough for the both of us.

I love someone who is not afraid to show affection in public but with good taste.
Boob-grope in Dior. Gotcha.

Just know who you are, like who you are, and share that with me and we will have a wonderful time together.  
I’m Cindy. I like me. There, I’ve shared! Now when do the good times start?



I haven’t clicked on Elenna’s link yet. I’m saving that for bath time.