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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I live in Austin, Texas, with my partner, Ray, and our child dog, Mocha. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘moving’



LiveBlogging the Great Blizzard of 2009

Friday, December 4th, 2009

Given the extensive coverage the topic has received in major international outlets such as the Austin American-Statesman and KUT-FM radio, I’m sure that you are all aware of the impending blizzard that is set to descend upon the ATX later this morning (assuming the weathermen didn’t get it wrong, again).  In case you’ve been hiding under a rock, here’s the skinny: there is a 60% chance that we may receive up to an inch of snow today.

Naturally, this news has caused panic among some weaker willed individuals.  The University of Texas, for example, felt compelled to issue a pre-emptive notice yesterday afternoon reminding everyone that classes had not yet been canceled, but urged us to check the University’s emergency line before proceeding to work tomorrow for the latest updates.

As you know, here at ROHK we strive for journalistic and culinary excellence of a higher standard, and so, I am sacrificing my own well-being to bring you the latest news about the event that I am sure will be recorded in the annals of history as The Great Blizzard of 2009.

Do check back regularly for updates.

Friday, December 4, 2009

6:10 am: Wake up, get dressed.  In honor of the impending cold snap, I search for a clean sweater, and eventually discover one that my parents bought me for Christmas some years ago.  It was clearly purchased before they moved to Texas because, even before I lost the 10 pounds, it was still at least one size too large and makes me look like a mustard colored burlap sack.  However, today we are going with function above form, following the trend set by world-famous survivalist Jake Gyllenehaal in the documentary film The Day After Tomorrow:

jake-gyllenhaal-london-hat

See?  If Jake can sport an outfit that reveals no muscle definition whatsoever, so can I.

6:54 am: Sitting outside of Beverly’s house.  It takes her longer than usual to come out to get in the car this morning, because she is clearly working up the nerve to set forth in the malstrøm and dodge the sunbeams that are beginning to fall outside.

7:10 am: Realizing that I am driving too fast for conditions, I reduce my speed to 72 miles per hour (114 km/h).  This adds at least 2 minutes to my commuting time this morning, but it’s important to drive safe!  Arrive alive!

7:26 am: Walking from the garage to campus.  It is chilly this morning.  The guy who’s not homeless but wants everyone to think he is who usually sets up behind Einstein’s Bagels is nowhere to be seen.  I hope that he has managed to find a shelter for the not-homeless-but-wanting-others-to-think-they-are.

7:35 am: In the office.  It was a tough last sprint across the West Mall to my building, what with the grounds services golf carts whizzing by, but I did make it here.  Lisa has already begun prepping for the cold weather by cleaning out the oven, which has been left a mess by a previous user/staff member.  This is very wise of her — clearly we may need the electric stove as a heating device if the power goes out once the deluge has begun.

7:55 am: Typing these words.  Outside the window, I can see that it is cloudy.  This is clearly a very bad sign — much worse than it has been on every other cloudy day this week.

8:15 am: The men with the leafblowers are out in the pass-through between my building and the next (which once served as the setting for Café d’Amour in the first Spy Kids movie).  Clearly they have been apprised of the danger that can result from snow falling on top of leaves.  I’m not sure what it is, myself, but as landscaping professionals, it’s their job to know these things.

8:28 am: Discover that emergency provisions are already stocked in the front office: two bags of Chips Ahoy™ and one of Pecan Sandies™.  Skeptics may suggest that they are, in fact, left over from Professor E’s final-class-of-the-year celebration yesterday, but that’s just crazy talk.  Lisa continues preparation of baked goods for this afternoon’s Survivalist Training/Birthday Celebration.

9:14 am: Correction: Provisions are one bag of Chips Ahoy™ and two bags of Pecan Sandies™.  Please make a note of this. This is, of course, in addition to the banana bread that Lisa has made, along with the molasses cookies that are apparently on schedule to be made at noon.

Looking out the office window, I can see that we now have a lower cloud cover than we did earlier.  Possibly this is due to the impending snow.  Possibly this is due to the arrival of the alien/Snuggie™ vanguard that I described in yesterday’s post.  Will investigate further.

The Statesman is reporting that “some” snow flurries have been seen in some parts of Central Texas, and that San Antonio may see a light dusting.  I shall keep the brave people of San Antonio in my prayers.

9:28 am: Discover that #Austinsnow is now being hashed on Twitter.  I have to join Twitter to do this, but the feed is too damned amusing not to share:


10:07 am: Take a break from perusing postings about the first harbingers of wintery doom–is Skol preparing to eat the sun and invoke the long winter known as Fimbulvetr?–to notice that the clouds are looking far more sinister now than they did an hour ago.  At least a five on the Scale of Sinistry, up from a four and a half.

Kim suggests that the gravity of the situation requires that the word “aught” be worked into the title, and that we should refer to this as the “Great Blizzard of Aught-Nine.”  What say you?

10:15 am: Realize that I left my iPod in my car.  In the movies, the guy who goes back for something never, ever lives until the end.  (Well, except in the Final Destination movies, but then Death spends the whole movie trying to catch up.)  Not falling for it.  Take that, Law of Murphy!

11:13 am: Fear not, dear readers!  I remain as fervently committed to bringing you updates as they develop.

It has transpired that one of the bags of Pecan Sandies™ has been devoured by inconsiderate coworkers who do not realize the strategic value that they will play in our survival should the worst be realized and we become stranded in the building.  An investigation with possible court martial is under way.

According to #Austinsnow, the earlier rogue flakes have abated.  We remain poised for a resurgence.

It is very cold in my office.  Am contemplating putting on gloves.

11:32 am: Confirm with Ray that he made it to work safely.  Breathe sigh of relief.

11:47 am: Cabin fever has clearly set in amongst the staff.  Food is being anthropomorphised:

apple

Also, the Chips Ahoy™ are stale.  We will put them on the back burner for now.

12:12 pm: Hearing Christmas carols being sung on the West Mall.  Assume there’s irony involved in any song mentioning snow.  The Statesman is now claiming that the snow is “on the way,” downgraded from the “it’s already falling” that we got earlier.

Am off to dodge air molecules on the way to find lunch.  Pray for me.

12:26 pm: Back from acquiring food.  Bitter cold, grey skies, no snow.

There was, however, a young man in front of Goldsmith Hall wearing what is either a very large paper boat or a paper papal hat on his head.  Not sure what the purpose is, other than to make people stop and stare.  Which we did.

12:37 pm: Have met the first person today who claims to have seen at least several snowflakes.  There is much praising of his survival instincts.  He has clearly suffered emotional trauma (but not enough to get me to cancel the panel presentation in 23 minutes in which he is supposed to deliver a talk in Persian).

12:53 pm: Ray calls to tell me that it is “snowing heavily” in Round Rock.  The office moves to Defcom 2 in preparation for the snow to begin falling.

12:57 pm: SNOW!!!!!!  There’s at least 15 flakes out there.

1:05 pm: Photographic evidence that the onslaught has begun:

snow

It’s kind of hard to see, but you can definitely tell if you look under the trees.  There’s a small possibility that some of it’s dust on the window that I shot through, but some of it is definitely snow flakes.

1:47 pm: And now the sun’s out.

1:51 pm: The Statesman is now reporting that winter weather advisory that had been issued for today … has been canceled.

I didn’t even get to go out in it: I’m trapped in my office because there’s a lecture going on outside.  Poop.  On the other hand, it’s a nice sunny day now!  And I left my sunglasses at home.

2:43 pm: My journalistic efforts have been foiled by the final presentations of one of the Persian classes going on in the room outside my office, however, I assure you, I will continue to cover the story until my last breath.  Or until it’s time to go home for the day, one or the other.

2:56 pm: BREAKING NEWS: the baked goods that have been added to the stockpile of supplies in the office include banana bread, chocolate ginger cookies, and both Irish and English breakfast tea.

I have learned from this blizzard that the primary difference between Irish and English breakfast tea is that the former is caffeinated, the latter is not.  (At least, that’s according to the HEB in-store brand — I can’t help thinking that’s not actually correct, but I’m not a tea-o-phile, so can not confirm.)

I have also learned that the air filter on the LCD projector needs to be changed.  I didn’t know it had an air filter and that it could be changed.  Things our sales reps forgot to tell us.  I wonder if this will affect the quality of the breathable oxygen in the event that we become trapped up here.  There are at least two clouds that I don’t like the look of visible from where I’m sitting right now, and that’s before I turn my head too much.  I have a feeling this isn’t over yet, dagnabbit.

3:36 pm: I am startled to see that there is ice buildup on the roof of Goldsmith Hall, which I can see from my office window.  It’s blue and shimmery and … oh, wait.  It’s someone’s jacket.  In fact, now that I look at the photo I took at 1:05, I can see that it was there then, too.

Never mind.

4:07 pm: Whoa!  I’ve gone viral — 600 hits in the past two hours.  Who knew?  The pressure’s on!  (OK, I know I’m supposed to be all Ocean’s 11-style cool and act like this is so <yawn> boring, but I’m just a touch too neurotic for that).

In weather related news, we’re holding at 39 degrees F / 3 degrees C with bright, practically cloudless skies.  I do so hope that the roads have been plowed and salted before I head home–I’d hate to drive in unsafe conditions.  My palms get a little sweaty just thinking about it.

4:23 pm: Time to start powering things down and head out into the wilds.  I shall check in again once I have arrived in the wilds of Round Rock, across the moors of Pflugerville and the towering craggy peaks of Tarrytown.

Stay strong, fellow commuters!  Man shall always persevere over Mother Nature.  (I mean, just look at the Domain.)

4:35 pm: On leaving the building, I see the measures that my fellow Austinites have gone to in order to protect themselves from the blustery weather.  One young fellow is wearing a dark suit, but has elected for the protection of white athletic socks.  Clearly, desperate times call for desperate measures.  Later, I will see another young man so affected by the cold weather that he has had to pull his boardshorts down in order to cover his mid-calf, exposing a considerable amount of plaid boxer short above the waistline.  I feel for him.

4:50 pm: Apparently, the snow has caused a short circuit in the gate at the parking garage.  One poor woman sits there with a line of cars behind her, and is finally forced to back up and go to the pay station in order to make her ticket work.  It’s very sad that such desperate measures need to be taken in order to complete such mundane tasks.

5:02 pm: MoPac expressway.  Cars moving much slower than the posted speed limit.  Possibly due to the weather.  I can think of no other reason why traffic heading north out of Austin would be moving so slowly at 5 pm on a Friday afternoon, especially the weekend before the Red River Shootout in Dallas.  It just boggles the mind.

5:35 pm: I  arrive home and begin searching for things to cover the plants in order to protect them from tonight’s deep freeze.  I now have a basket full of habanero peppers (seriously, what am I going to do with so many habaneros?  I might have to make salsa for the office Chrismukkah gifts.  But, oh no, I’ve said too much.

5:45 pm: I send Ray out to Home Depot so that I can wrap the Christmas gifts that came in the mail today.  I hope they didn’t get wet.

6:03 pm: Gifts wrapped, Ray happily off at Home Depot, I sit in front of the television, open my laptop, and blog this, the last of my updates.  At 6 pm, the winter weather advisory has expired, and I, for one, am considering myself very lucky–very lucky indeed–to have managed to survive the Great Blizzard of 2009.

LiveBlogging has now ended.  Please remain seated until the vehicle has come to a complete stop.  Don’t forget to search under the seat in front and in the overhead bins of you for any belongings you may have brought on board, and have a nice day in town, or wherever your final destination may be.  Drive safe!

So, three gueros walk into a coqui joint …

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009

We land in San Juan.  Uneventful, except for the clear-air turbulent jump the plane does on the way down.  I can almost make out Morro Castle looming over the entrance to the harbor as we touch down.

I won’t lie – we’re all tired.  The sun went down about halfway through the 2 hour flight from Fort Lauderdale and, from that moment on, we were all looking at our watches.  “Are we there yet?”

The baggage claim at the airport is big and empty and there’s lots of room for rental car desks … there just aren’t any.  We have to take a shuttle a couple of miles to the rental car agency, which is on the frontage road (“Marginal” in the local parlance) of the freeway out of town.  As the shuttle pulled away from the terminal, “Inmortal,” the latest single from La Oreja de Van Gogh, my latest Europop/rock guilty pleasure, started blaring on the radio.  Yay.

It’s Natalie’s birthday today.  I knew she wasn’t happy that she had to spend her birthday in airports, so I stopped off to get a nice slice of cake before we went to the airport, and on the flight from Austin to Fort Lauderdale, we had the flight attendants serve it to her, and the purser had the entire plane sing.  (Never mind the incident where Ray went up front to ask them to do it and they reacted … well, he was moving kind of quickly and was holding my briefcase.  Thank god there were no air marshals on board).

Her birthday also got us a 10% discount on the rental car.

The guy at the rental car place was plenty chatty, which made up for the “You’re in Latin America now” speed of service.  We asked about dinner — we’re all in our traveling clothes, and it’s late.  We were all somewhat of the opinion that we needed to stop on the way to the hotel because once we got to the hotel … we weren’t likely to leave again.  (It wasn’t the wrong assumption).

“You should go into Old San Juan,” he says.  We all look at each other.  Old San Juan is fancier than we’re wanting to be tonight.  “There’s this barbecue place down the street.  The food is good.”

The barbecue place–Bebo’s–is across the street from McDonald’s.  All the McDonald’s employees are eating there.  It’s the sort of place where there’s no menu, no air conditioning, and … well, it’s a good thing that Puerto Rico isn’t a state because the health inspection ….

After a bunch of locals rattle off their orders with no fuss or muss, the lady behind the counter turns to us.  “Is there a menu?” we ask in our worst Spanish.  She half rolls her eyes and gestures at the trays of roasting meat.

We wind up with a plate of roast pork (scrumptious), a plate of roast chicken that could melt in your mouth (I believe my reaction was, “Oh … my … god … “), two grilled plantains, and a plate of french fries.  We are the only white people in the joint.  No one gives us a second glance.  It’s likely the cheapest meal we’ll have here.  And maybe it was the tired, and maybe it was definitely the fact that it was our first meal on the island, but it was goood.

And now we’re at the hotel.  And it turns out that you can get free internet at a 5-star hotel.  Who knew?

I can’t wait to see what this place looks like in the daylight.

Just Can’t Take it Anymore

Monday, September 7th, 2009

It’s been a while since I’ve posted.

In all honesty, I’m a bit tired of the same old aimless blogging.  This outlet is no longer as anonymous as it used to be, and, in true “careful what you wish for fashion” I’m in a conundrum: I have more readers, but they’re people that I know.  Some of them don’t always seem to be familiar–either with the concept of exaggeration for comedic effect, or with my tendency to use it liberally.  Some of them are likely to approach me in the hallway (either a literal hallway or a metaphoric one) and ask me about something I’ve written.

In the case of literal hallways, it’s even more alarming: I’ve written things about my work environment that are predicated on a good number of my coworkers not knowing that I have a blog.  Some people are good about keeping the secret, others … less so.

And so, I’ve tried to keep my liberal rants and raves to a minimum in the hopes that I won’t offend anyone.  And in doing so, I’ve made myself rather bored with the whole concept.

Well, I’ve got a rant.  And if it offends you, tough.

For a while, I’ve been trying to put my finger on my feelings about the current political situation in the country.  And, frankly, it’s not just a political thing although what set me off today is political in nature.

We have guaranteed freedom of speech in this country.  The problem that I’ve noticed is that as a society, we don’t practice responsible freedom speech.  Americans seem to think that if they have a thought on their head, it needs to be stated out loud.

At the moment, we have this whole situation going on with President Obama: the man has the gall to want to speak directly to schoolchildren to encourage them to stay in school.  The nerve!  Doesn’t he know that as a bona-fide secret Muslim who was born in Zanzibar* and is trying to convert the entire country to Socialist Fascism** that good right-wing American Christians will see right through the AntiChrist’s ploy to brainwash their children.  After all, Memaw and Naydell left school after the fourth grade, and they turned out just fine!

Seriously.

Our last president … well, let’s put it this way.  In eight years, he took the entire nation to war with one country that had something to do with 9/11 (sorta) but that wasn’t spectacular enough for the news media … or his popularity ratings.  So, we decided to go to war with another country that had nothing to do with 9/11 and posed absolutely no threat whatsoever to the United States–this second war was justified on the presentation of completely false intelligence that the White House, it has been revealed, practically made up.  As part of said invasion, it was revealed that our infantrymen were involved in torture of sensitive prisoners, and graphic humiliation of non-sensitive prisoners.  We went from having a balanced budget to one so far in the hole that it’s hard to fathom … and, oh, by the way, started the whole corporate bailout scheme that everyone seems to have forgotten about and now blames on Obama.

Let me say this: I have lost my enchantment with Obama.  I have.  I’m starting to think that the best chance the Democrats have to keep the White House in 2012 is for Obama to not run again.

That said, where was this level of vitriol and anger at Bush 43?  I hated the man — hated him.  For all of the reasons mentioned above, and much more.  To his dirty rotten core.  But if he’d spoken to schoolchildren about the importance of education, I would have made a joke that the speech would be titled: “Stay in School!  Don’t turn out like me,” and let it go.  I wouldn’t have petitioned the school board to either not show the speech or change their policies to allow children to skip school during it.

What we’re hiding here is racism, pure and simple.  People don’t like Obama because he’s an educated black man.  It’s not nice to say that we don’t like him because he’s black, so we make shit up.  He’s Muslim.  He’s socialist.  He’s fascist.  He’s Zanzibari Kenyan.  But, no, really it’s not because he’s black.  We’ve evolved.  (But only metaphorically — we don’t use that term to suggest that we believe in Evolution.  We all know it’s much more likely that an invisible guy who lives in the sky snapped his fingers and made the entire universe happen in six days.)

Moving beyond politics: Americans really do think that they can say whatever they want — which they can, but without any sense of appropriateness or decency.

Take, for example, an experience that I had in El Paso a few weeks ago.  Natalie and I delivered training to a group of 70 people.  At the end of the day, as we were proceeding to the rental car with our things, we reflected on the day.  “It seemed to go well,” she said to me.  “People really seemed to enjoy it.”
“I think so too,” I said, “but I noticed that there was at least one evaluation that seemed to be straight 1s down the line.”  [Our evaluation forms consist of rankings on a 1-5 scale: 1 is "strongly disagree / poor / strongly dislike."]

Natalie then did what we’ve learned over the years that you should never do.  While standing in the parking lot, she pulled out the collected evaluation forms and started going through them.

I should say this.  The number of negative evaluations was somewhere around 4.  Of 70.  Far outnumbered by the number of overwhelmingly positive evaluations.

However, the negative evaluations were really negative.  Like, nasty on a personal level toward the two of us.  One of them, for example, went into pedantic detail about what a poor speaker I am because I said “um” and “ah” too much during one of the presentations (which I had prefaced by saying, “I haven’t done this one in a couple of years, so bear with me”).  I won’t even repeat some of the other comments because, well, they’re not worth repeating.

We sat in the rental car (yeah, it was a dry heat, but 102 is 102, especially when the sun is shining directly on you) in shocked silence.  “So much for professionalism,” I said.
“What on earth would make someone think that it’s OK to say these things to someone?” Natalie asked.
“I … have no idea.”

The coordinator of the event contacted us last week to see if we could set up another date for later in the fall or spring.  “All in all, I think it went very well,” she said.

Natalie called to ask if there was any way to respond in a way that would both convey our enthusiasm and willingness to continue working together, while making reference to the unacceptable and inappropriate nature of some of the comments on the evaluation forms.  “No,” I said.  “It’ll make us seem petty.”

My guess is that the reason people say nasty things is the disconnect of the written word: it’s easier to write it out and not have to deal with the repercussions of watching what you say hit home.  I work with a professor like that: in person, he’s the sweetest, most generous guy.  Put an Ethernet connection between him and the rest of the world and he becomes the sadistic lovechild of Dorothy Parker and Jason, the machete wielding villain of the Friday the 13th movies.  I’ve never heard him use the f-word in person.  I’ve never read an e-mail from him that didn’t contain it.

Why are we, as a people, so unaffected by the notion of the effect that the words we write have on others?  Why do we think it’s OK to engage in such awful diatribe?  Have we really lost the ability to debate civilly without resorting to name calling, innuendo, and wild accusations?

In other words: what’s wrong with us?

*Yes, children: in 1961, Mombassa, which is now in Kenya, was part of the sultanate of Zanzibar.  It became part of Kenya in 1963.  I strongly suspect that the reason why no one in the birther movement knows this is because they all think Zanzibar is a made up place like Wonderland, Narnia, or Canada.

** Quick primer: fascists are on the extreme right side of the political spectrum; socialists are on the left side–and not that far to the left, either.  You think they’re farther than they are because American “liberals” are what, in most countries, are called “leftist-centrists,” meaning that they’re just to the left of the center on the political spectrum.  Socialists and Fascists do not like each other as a matter of course.  It is not politically possible for Obama to be a socialist while pursing a fascist policy.  It does not make you look smarter to try to use both terms together and pretend that they mean the same thing.  They don’t.  And it makes you look even more stupid than you are.

Cuh-Cuh-Cuh-Clusterfuck

Tuesday, August 4th, 2009

Note: names have been changed to protect those in need of protecting from my foot up their ass.

Howdy, y’all!

I’m currently in a hotel room right underneath the flight pattern from the active takeoff runway at Houston Intercontinental Airport (Continental’s 777 bound for London went over a little while back — boy, was she noisy!).

Today was not a good day.  In fact, today was the sort of day that the term “clusterfuck” was invented to describe.  I’m over it now, but first … first I’m going to blog about it :twisted:

(more…)

Facebook is a Punk-Ass Chump

Wednesday, July 29th, 2009

Yeah, that’s right.  I said it.  And I stole it off a bumper sticker describing our last president.

I won’t deny that I have used Facebook for varying purposes both professional and personal.  I have used it to stalk our notoriously blasé alumnae, whose career trajectories we are supposed to track (and they know this) but who are really, really, really bad about keeping us informed of their whereabouts the moment they leave town.  I have used it to look up people I used to know in a former life; not in the Shirley MacLaine definition thereof, but people I knew from my days as an underpaid, overworked cog at a non-profit in DC, people I knew from my days as an undergraduate, and people I knew from (shudder) high school.

I have stopped friending people from high school.  At this point, I’m “friends” with people that I knew well.  My “people you may know” box lists a number of people that I didn’t know well and, you know what?  If they want to get in touch, they can friend me. As the number of people that I have known in my life is actually something of a finite number (I was a bit of a wallflower until grad school), it’s that little box right there that’s been the source of some amusement and derision of late.

Maybe it’s just that I’m bitter that I don’t actually know most of the people that the little box suggests.  The chain of linkages seems to have worn thin–Facebook has, on occasion, suggested people to be friends of mine for no other obvious reason than they happen to have the same name as people that I already know.  That’s weird, right?

I am not in favor of the introduction of things that I can “Fan” into my “people you may know” box.  There are too many things to “fan” these days.  “Flipping the pillow over to get to the cool side”?  Really? The day that I completely lost my patience was … well, I found it creepy that a little box appeared suggesting that I become a fan of “butt sex” right next to another little box suggesting that I friend my high school guidance counselor.

Seriously.  Ew.

Then, of course, there are the recent spate of groups that have popped up that are Iran related.  I can support “free and fair elections in Iran,” I have been asked to support “supporters of free and fair elections in Iran,” I have been asked to join a group called “Where is their vote?”, a group called “Where is MY vote?”, and something in Persian that I can’t read because I don’t read Persian.  I’ve been asked to shade my profile photo green (I’m standing against a green background–I’m lazy and that’ll have to suffice).  I’ve also been asked to become a supporter of Mir Hussein Moussavi, which I decided not to do because, other than the fact that people are protesting because they think he won the elections in June, I don’t really know that much about his politics and whether I support them.

Therein, of course, lies the rub: I still think about what I do on Facebook like it matters.  I have “friends” who clearly don’t.  Two weeks ago, I came back to my hotel in Cairo after a lovely evening watching the sufi dances in the old city, followed by a stroll through the part of the old city that’s now lit up at night.  I booted up my laptop since the Internet seemed to run faster in the wee hours of the night, and discovered that someone who went to high school with me for one year and recently friended me had posted an article from a Christian Web site freaking out because “Islam is trying to take over America” (*coughfirstcough*). I had no problem removing this individual as a friend since it was clear that we had nothing in common (and he clearly hadn’t actually looked at my profile long enough to determine that I’m a hellbound homo).

The same happened to a couple of people who kept trying to recruit me to causes like, “Impeach Obama now!” (Why the sitting president is worthy of impeachment for any reason other than being black a Democrat is beyond me.  Always amazes me that these are the same people who sat idly by while Tricky Dick Cheney sat there with a pair of scissors and cut up the constitution.)

My friend Will is currently on a campaign to remove all of the birthers from his roster of Facebook friends.  I don’t think I have any birthers in mine, although I can’t be sure because there are a few people who are permanently hidden (mostly because their status updates are a nonstop slough of quizzes, status updates from Mafia Wars, or invoke God just a few more times than I think a normal person should when, say, mentioning that you just got home from the grocery store–praise Jesus!).

And don’t even get me started on those bizarre high school competitions to see who can garner the most friends.  There’s a reason that my profile is now on permanent lockdown.

All this is to say that Facebook is starting to spoil a little bit, like cheese left out in the sun for a week.  I’m curious to see what the next big thing in social networking will be … because I’m totally going to join it, and then blog about how much it annoys me.  Just like everyone else :grin:

 

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