Lessons on How To Use Facebook

Facebook is a great [stalking] tool. I truly hate talking on the phone or at all with most people I’m “friends” with, so it really expedites the process of being a nosy busybody.

Which I am.

However, there are some things that I do NOT want to see on Facebook.

1. Updates on your child’s eating/sleeping/bodily function patterns. Listen, during the weekday, I spend more time with a dozen ADORABLE little kids than their own parents do. And though this somehow hasn’t yet killed my natural desire to have one of my own [SOMEDAY], I like to pretend that children don’t exist on my off hours. And I DO understand what a milestone it is for YOUR family when little Fallen/Rushmore/Lingerie [TRUE STORY] rolls over for the first time, and I give you a pass for that. What I DO NOT give you a pass for is posting a iPhone pic of little Charlenee’s poop face. Unacceptable.

2. Daily wedding countdowns. I know a girl who started on day 183. I told Anne that if I ever morph into some crazed creature like that, she can stab me with my wedding stilettos.

3. In lieu of a child, endearing parent-like posts about your dog, cat, goldfish, miniature giraffe. Hey. You DON’T have a child yet. So stop giving your pets people names, talking to them in baby talk voices, and posting pictures of them with their hair manipulated into crazy styles decked out with bedazzled accessories. I want a GIGANTIC dog one day and will most definitely post pictures of me and my unconditional love factory, but you will not hear me say things like, “Little Sophie has been so naughty this week!” or “Isn’t Charlie just the cutest? He’s top of his class in obedience school!” When I used to call my friends, even if they were married, they’d have things to say about themselves. Now half the conversation is about the headaches of carpooling dogs to the kennel during couples’  vacation and little Caroline’s mischievous streak of hiding dog toys in the dishwasher. I just can’t handle it.

4. “Funny” and “ironic” condemnations of our next end-of-times scare. Yes, I guess we all ARE really still here. Couldn’t have figured that out myself at 6:01. Or from the fifteen other people who posted the exact same status. Bring something new to the conversation or leave it at home.

I’ll stop there. I could go on, but soon it’s just going to get vindictive. What do YOU hate to see on Facebook?


Movie Night

On a side note, Anne and I went to go see Bridesmaids last night. Hil-ar-ious. And a VERY relatable story. If you’re looking for a good girls’ night movie, or just a great movie, I would totally recommend it (especially over the star-vehicle, unrealistically constructed, and seriously flawed story of Something Borrowed).

I had something else clever to say, but I forgot.

The Birds and the Bees and Everything Between (my knees)

TV’s taught me a lot about life. I’ve learned that heroes always escape at the last second. If you work for the Secret Service, the FBI, or any other law enforcement agency you have a high chance of spending several years with crazy sexual tension between you and your super hot partner. And that writers will stretch realism for convenience, as evidenced by the six people who apparently never kept their New York City apartments locked.

I like paying attention to how TV shows portray certain demographics that I fall into–single white female, post-grad hot mess, writer, New York City native (I definitely identify with my NYC years–not my Jersey years).

There is one particular demographic I fall into that I’m always fascinated by when it’s put on TV. Community described it as being really rare, like a unicorn. Glee said it meant that I was naive and a bit frigid.

What’s rare, naive, and cold? I’m talking, of course, about being a virgin.

BUT WAIT, before anyone freaks out about how I’m going to talk about NOT having sex, I do feel the need to have the disclaimer. Summer and I regularly talk about boys, dates, making out, sex, and Cosmo articles, and we have made two polar opposite decisions on this. If my roomie can feel comfortable talking with me about sex, I hope you will too. This is my own personal choice, and I don’t expect others to share it. Just respect it. And, sadly, that respect is what was missing this week from an otherwise excellent episode of Glee.

Apparently it's more acceptable to act all hot and bothered in front of students than to accept waiting for sex as a real, mature decision.

Let me start off by saying that one of the main points of the Glee episode, that teenagers should be educated about sex, is something I COMPLETELY agree with. I’m not one of those people who think we should teach abstinence only. I think we need to have well-rounded sex education that includes all choices. I thought the sex talk that Kurt’s dad gave him was great, validating both who he is as a person and the choices he’ll make [If you haven’t seen it, go ahead and YouTube it, or read this article by Mandi Bierly ].

Best scene of the show, by far.

My parents are pretty shy people, and I never got a sex talk. Wait, maybe I did. I remember some sort of awkward conversation with my mom, but I don’t remember the two sentences that we exchanged about it. I learned about sex through my friends, media, sex ed classes, and Cosmo articles. Is this the best way to learn about sex? Probably not. Does it mean I’m naive, cold, and frigid? Um, no. And guess what, Glee writers, I KNOW what Afternoon Delight is.

Not only am I informed about afternoon delight, I would NEVER be caught in that skirt. EVER.

People make the decision not to have sex for lots of reasons. Some do it for emotional reasons, some health reasons. I have several reasons for not having sex right now, but the main one, the one that trumps them all, is spiritual. God says not to have sex before marriage, and since He’s God, I trust that He’s got a good reason. This is an incredibly personal decision, and I don’t hold any non-Christians, and I’m pretty generous with Christians too, to this decision at all. And most of my discussions about sex don’t even delve into the spiritual side of things because I’m talking with people to who that’s not applicable. That’s just my main reason for my choice.

But I have to ask–why is my decision not valid? Why are people threatened by people who’ve made the decision to abstain? Why are we called naive, frigid, repressed? I ain’t got no respect, and honestly, it gets me fired up. Why is it that you can choose one thing, and I another, but I’m scorned for my decision? My relationships aren’t stifled because we haven’t had sex. I am not unaffectionate or unloving or cold with a boy because I choose not to have sex with him. And I’m not a prude. I still love making out. I’m rare like a freaking unicorn, and instead of thinking that makes me a freak, I think it makes me more awesomely me.

I cannot wait to have sex [you guys picked up on that, right? I’m not staying a virgin FOREVER! Holy heaven, that is not the goal!]. One of my fears in life is dying before I have sex. But I want to have sex with my husband and my husband only. It’s going to be awesome. And I’m not going to try to convince anyone to make the same choice I have. Just give me the same respect that I give everyone else.