What a great Easter Season this has been!!! A week ago right now, we were feverishly trying to get ready to go to Michigan for Uncle Luke’s funeral. In all honesty, it has been almost too busy to think about things in a proper manner. I was looking (very briefly) at some sites this morning, and saw where someone had noted that Xanga just wasn’t all that “cool” anymore. With Facebook, Twitter, Utube, etc. Xanga is on its way out (so “they” said, anyhow).
I would much, much rather read a xanga blog any day than surf over the facebook and read one sentence things that make me wonder, “What in the world was behind that???” And those little one-liners: “Sally Jones really, really doesn’t like it at all.” It drives me crazy!!! What doesn’t Sally Jones like? Why doesn’t she like it? It is something I could fix or pray about it? Sometimes if I know the person, I go through all sorts of mental gymnastics that include things like, “Is that put there so someone will call and ask what’s wrong?” “If I do call and ask what is wrong, will they think I’m meddling.” “But then, they put it out there on the web for all to see, and if no one even pays attention, will they think no one cares?” “But maybe they just want people to pray/feel sorry/be inquisitive etc., etc., etc..”
And then there are all those applications. I don’t know what to do with these things. They sound so interesting, but I can’t figure out what to do with them. I don’t mind being related to everybody and their dog. It’s been the story of my life. But the pokes, the easter eggs, the flowers, the gifts, the jabs, the quizzes. Ah, the QUIZZES. “Somebody in your town called you stupid. Take the IQ challenge now and prove them wrong.” “How Amish are you?” “What woman in the Bible are you most like?” There is no end to them, and even though I am quite sure people who send them to me may be slightly interested in the results, I am also just as confident that I won’t seriously hurt their feelings if I decide that I really don’t care which shakespearian drama character I am most like.
My kids think that the solution to all my problems would be to just not even go on Facebook. And that would be my choice, (probably) except for one thing — Where else will I get a chance to see fresh pictures of babies that are heartwarming and reassuring? How can I not be at least a little bit interested in finding old friends? I confess that I am, and it is no small source of delight. And I do get brief glimpses into the lives of our five adult children and the three beloved in-laws . . .
But I can’t put my heart on Facebook the way I do here. It doesn’t seem right somehow to expound on the people I love and the choices that make up my life and the lives of the people who live and laugh and love at Shady Acres. There’s never enough room. I don’t get the feeling that people are really interested, anyhow, and my precious Xanga Friends might not get a chance to go over there and look things up. They just might be like I am — enough facebook handicapped to be stymied by the whole facebook thing. I really get concerned that I am missing important things in the lives of friends when the oldest message on my opening page is only three hours old, and I haven’t really checked things for a couple of days. Oh, dear!
I’ve been wanting to write a big post on here about our eventful trip to Michigan last week, and maybe I will get around to it yet. I am experiencing a rather difficult day with my knee, (it felt like something went a little haywire in there yesterday at church and it has been complaining ever since). That makes me feel unable to really get the trip together into a neat, little, entertaining package and give it the twist of solemnity and hilarity that made it THE tip to remember. I hope to have a chance to do that later. It was a time that could warm the coldest heart, and I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it under any circumstance.
It is time to change a washer and to get this knee up again. Blessings to all my dear, dear friends in Xanga-land. Let’s use Facebook as a servant, and keep it in its place!!!
Oh. Right. Xanga, too!