The Death of Facebook

 To my friends that are actually my friends that I connected with using the medium of facebook:

 HEY! If you love me, you'll email me or call me. I think the time has come to let facebook go. I'm not de-activating, I'm deleting my account. I'm not leaving the web, however. I'm going to Twitter, I'm on google, I've got 2 blogs, and I'll continue to use my ever-reliable Yahoo email address. This isn't an attack on any of you (it's not you, it's me). I've wasted too much time on here. I've put off the kids when I should have responded. I want to work more on our house. I need to paint some walls, bake some zucchini muffins, play my ukulele, and work on possible curriculum. If I edged myself off slowly, like a drug, I know I'd be back and I'd relapse into this world of constant updates and useless info. George Takei is fantastic, oh myyyy, but I'm leaving him behind to further explore my own universe. I've loved connecting w/so many of you via the fb medium, but until fb becomes less intrusive and more respectful of its users' rights, I will be absent from this realm. 

1/2/12 Update: I'm nuts--how on Mother Earth would I remember your birthday if I didn't have fb? No, really. I'll hang out w/fb a little longer, only if I can prove to myself that I don't need bragbook, but I do need a device to keep in touch with people I would actually converse with in person.  Facebook, you didn't win this round, as I shall dominate you, you engrossing, dangerous little chimp.

Well, I've been running. And running. And uke-ing (not puking). And the kids keep growing and coughing and eating and running and playing and screaming and fighting and reading and peeing and talking and giggling and wrecking and creating.

That's all I've got time for right now.

Sitting, Failing, Baking

As I'm sitting here, waiting for the cranberry-orange bread to finish baking, I'm neglecting the dishes, listening to jazz, ignoring the nagging need for sleep, I'm beginning to wonder if that tomorrow morning's 5K at 8am is such a good idea. For one, I'm getting another cold. Yes, ANOTHER virus, as I've gone an entire 3 days without some form of illness. I usually contract these bugs from my children, who are neither daycare kids or school kids, but instead are, I've decided, small, human petri dishes.

I've begun running. Did I mention that? Some mothers choose to start running to chase after their children. I've begun running so as to run FROM my children. SeaBass' whining hits a fever-pitch w/in 30 seconds of self-made dilemma, and Beatrice won't stop eating the cat food. These people are from my loins. I've fed them of my own body, yet somehow the cat's food tastes better, and whining is a more poignant form of communication than, say, talking quietly.

Whine, whine. More later. I should clean the cooked bread batter off of the stove before it looks good enough to eat.