Monday, January 5, 2009
This site is sucking the life out of me. That’s ironic, because it kind of archives and tracks your life, interests and friends. What did we do before it was invented? After numerous quizzes, I now know I have the brain power of a chimp, I speak with a Midwestern accent, and Edward Cullen is my Twilight guy. I have yet to find a “what’s the meaning of life?” quiz. I’m afraid all results would be “facebook”. I’m spending a lot of time with my laptop on my lap, and the modem plugged into the right side. I fear I will get cancer in my right knee. I should think about moving the modem to the left side.
You never know who you will find on facebook. Sometimes I even invite strangers to look me up. (Kelley: “What are they going to do, Sarah? Search under ‘Drunk Girl at St. Paul Hilton?‘”) Facebook has been a great way for me to keep up with friends and family. I love seeing their photos, and writing sarcastic comments on their walls. (Usually when drunk, but that’s more of an exception, not a rule.) I’m sure they enjoy keeping up with my exciting life. Just the other day, I notified all of them that I am a fan of chocolate cake, red wine, and Cadburry mini eggs. I felt redeemed when Alex also became a fan of mini eggs. I felt as though I had “paid it forward”. I love sifting through/joining the pointless, random groups. “I love the Great Gatsby, Wine Shop at Home, I love my cat but hate cleaning up it’s barf, Twilight is not real, get over it, I hate washing dishes by hand (because I do!!), Uff da! Is the shit”. None of these compare to the pride I felt when I joined “Fargo: The fifth drunkest city in the nation”. The Admins sent me a Christmas e-card this year, and mailed out my updated membership card. It was laminated and everything. I thought that was a nice touch.
Damn Bowling Buddies. I’m addicted to it. After every game I think, “The next game could beat my high score.” (A 221, you go, girl!) I was so proud when I earned $500 in bowling bucks. I could finally purchase those trendy black Converse shoes for my avatar!! To play the game, I press and hold the right mouse button to pick up the ball. I then push my middle finger over the mouse pad on my laptop, and that throws the ball down the lane. I think it’s giving me carpal tunnel, tendonitis, and removing the finger print from my middle finger. Actually, missing a finger print might come in handy one day. I’ll keep playing. There’s a curious little button marked “SUPPORT”. I believe in three possibilities. #1: If you are experiencing technical difficulties, click it. #2: If you need tips and pointers for a better score, click it. (Stupid splits!! Grrrr…) #3: If I click it, a pop up window will open, and I will be instantly connected to a live chat session with a confident, well trained counselor who will oh so subtly draw me into an intervention and try to convince me that I don’t need play this game over and over, for an hour or more at a time. “A callous on my ‘driving finger’ just isn’t sexy” is a good reason to back off. I think possibilities two and three are probably projections. I’m afraid to find out.
- Meeting Minutes
- Pregnant women crave (blogs about) ice cream
- Ben & Jerry Defense
- "and then the lobsta sez.....
- A Hairballing Experience
- How to waste a Sunday
- ...and then I started crying.
- Phat Ass
- The scent of divinity
- Randomness that is Sarah
- ▼ January (16)