I was ready to turn my tassel and become an adult in 2003 when an Ivy League undergrad was busy writing Internet code that would unknowingly change all of our lives.  Oh, Mark Zuckerberg!  I don’t think you had any idea using your invention would become a daily habit, as regular as brushing our teeth.  Let’s be honest, we check our Facebook way more times in a day than we practice good oral hygeine.

I never realized how many people I knew until Facebook started keeping track for me.  Facebook made catching up at my 10 year high school reunion very easy.  “So, I saw on Facebook you just got married!  Congratulations!”  “Those pictures you posted were amazing!  You must love living in DC!”

Like everyone, I’m guilty of “stalking” one person or another from my past.  Not creepy felony stalking, mind you, but just keeping track.  You know, the people who you always look at their pictures and click on their posted links.  I may or may not have obnoxiously  re-requested an ex-boyfriend’s sister like five times after she defriended me.  (Oh no she didn’t!?!) If she was gonna snub me, I was gonna annoy her.

From allfacebook.com

Facebook is the passive-aggressive person’s dream come true.  Not many of us would ever say to someone’s face what we would post online.  I would be as sweet as sugar to her if I saw her on the street.  (Then I would call my mom, pronto.  We’d need to dish.  Don’t act like you wouldn’t do that too.)

I’ve come to learn, however, Facebook karma is a bitch.

There’s this one girl I’m “Facebook friends” with that has never been a real life friend.  I’ve known her a very long time and I’ve never respected her, nor cared to be around her.  Let me be clear that I would never wish real harm on anyone.  But, sometimes looking at Facebook makes me feel, well, mischevious.

This girl recently posted pictures of her adorable children.  I looked at her smiling, cute little 3-year-old son and thought, “I hope she steps on one of his Legos.”

Image from Rage Comics

Charlotte doesn’t have Legos yet, but she does have Duplos.  Later that night I stepped on the edge of one just perfectly.  I was cursing the Internet Gods.  “Damn you Mark Zuckerberg!”

There are nations in this world where mothers can’t fire up their laptops after tucking their babes into bed.  They don’t feel the soft glow of the screen and the keys beneath their fingers as they tap out the day’s troubles.  They won’t get immediate feedback from other mothers all over the world who had the same hassles and heartaches.  They don’t get to say what they want, any time they want.  However, that’s a freedom we *do* have here in the United States.

American mamas!  We have a right to write about labor pains, spit-up, our kid’s poop, or any other ridiculous crap on the Internet!

I’m all for preventing piracy, but there has to be better legislation than SOPA and PIPA.  Don’t let anyone take that away.  Sign the petition against SOPA and PIPA.

This is my blackout.

You may have noticed my altered look around here.  Yes, indeed I have made the switch.  I pulled the trigger and moved from Blogger to WordPress.  I figured it was time to start blogging with the big girls.

However, there are a million things I’m trying to figure out.  The blog looks great on my end.  From my laptop, this little corner of the Internet looks fantastic.  Apparently to everyone else it looks like Tom Cruise got his hands on it and scrambled it up a la Minority Report.

::SIGH::  Let me get my technology together and I’ll be back with ya’ll soon.  Sorry.  I’ll take any and all WordPress wisdom.

You may have heard that after decades in broadcasting, legendary television personality Andy Rooney died this week at age 92.

For most of my life I watched him at the end of 60 Minutes.  I would roll my eyes at his grouchy, old-fashioned observations. I scoffed at his typewriter, bushy eyebrows, and rants on used cars or cell phones.  I thought of him as a grumpy old curmudgeon only my grandparents listened to.

After watching numerous obituary tributes to him this weekend I got to thinking.  Is Andy Rooney really any different from all us bloggers?  He spent his life writing observations.  Isn’t that what we do on a more modern platform?  Maybe I shouldn’t scoff at his ramblings.  Aren’t they really just blog posts tapped out on a typewriter?

Rest in peace Mr. Rooney.  Thank you for making it okay to rant, no matter the medium.

Um,  yeah.  I drew Andy Rooney eyebrows on myself and my baby.  But, it’s in tribute.  So, it’s cool.