Stop SuperPoking Me!

Not wanting to be left out the party, I too have a Facebook page. While I love keeping up with friends, there are a few things about Facebook that kinda drive me crazy (ie, snowball fights, virtual hugs, "What-Sex-and-the-City Character-Are-You" quizzes. Seriously, someone sent me that). I stumbled on this Op/Ed piece in The Strand that really sums up my thoughts on Facebook etiquette.

(1) Thou shalt not have excessive amounts of friends. 
While you might think it's cool to have 1500 "friends," everyone knows you're just one of those people who adds every person they ever come in contact with. You know, the guy who has submitted a friend request by the time you get home from the grocery store where he was ahead of you in the checkout line? Yeah, that guy. The average person can count their real friends on their fingers, so keep your numbers in the low 300's.

(2) Thou shalt not fake caring. 
I'm not saying you don't care deeply about guy-who-sat-behind-you-in-grade-nine-math, but it's completely unnecessary to write "Happy Birthday! Go get trashed!" on his wall just because you saw his name in the "today's birthdays" section of your homepage. You wouldn't have even known how old he was if his profile didn't tell you, so don't bother pretending you care about the joyousness of his date of birth. If you care, send a card or pick up the phone. If you really care, show up at his party with a 40 oz in hand. 

(3) Thou shalt not marry thy best friend. 
"Girl-who-sits-behind-you-in-English is now married." What? Check her profile, quick! She's only 19 for goodness sakes! Under info: "Married to girl-who-sits-beside-girl-who-sits-beside-you-in-English. Har har har. That is just too cute. While you might think it's adorable to be fake married to your BFF on Facebook, it's actually vomit-inducing. Everyone knows you're besties for life. Take it easy.

(4)Thou shalt not indulge in excessive applications.
A lot of Facebookers have gone application-happy. Accepting every "guy-from-dance-class has sent you a dinosaur egg!" request causes your profile to become a maze of cuddly characters and puzzling point systems. Friends will tire quickly of trying to navigate through your Pokemon characters, and "Which Disney princess are you?" quizzes to write on your wall. They'll probably also begin to have homicidal thoughts following the 5000th "guy-from-that-party wants to tell you who has a crush on you through the 'who's your true love' application!" message.

(5)Thou shalt not type unintelligibly. 
Oooommmmmmggggggg whennn you typeeeee likkkkee thissss itttt makessss me wanttt too giveeee uup onnn humanityyyyy. My brain aches when I try to decipher some of the gobbledegook that is written on walls and under pictures. Must every letter be repeated? Must every sentence contain the words "loveeee" and "hottttt"? Please, spare my brain cells. Keep it down to "g2g" and "brb." 

Scenes from a Flaningan Drive...

Being Flaningan means a few things--good and bad. But one of the good things about being Flaningan is, for whatever reason, we've developed sharp senses of humor. No where is that more evident than in my eight-year old, Riley.

The other day we were driving through McKinney when Riley out of the blue announces in a very monotone, dead-pan voice:

"The other night, I dreamt that I was riding on top of a flying monkey. A flying squirrel passed us by. The flying squirrel asked me, 'What the heck are you doing on a flying monkey?' Then I woke up."

I hear this while at the same time my four-year old,  squirming in his car seat, announces that his pee-pee is coming out..."hurry, hurry daddy! I have to make a yeddow pot! Park in front of da house..in da front!!"

Work is chaos, the economy is going to hell, and father time isn't being kind, but life doesn't get any better than that!

Running for my life...literally

It's rant time!

I was enjoying my evening run, cool, crisp evening running weather making it just right. iPod was blaring in my ear, I think it was Incubus singing something about "not letting life pass you by..." In other words...I was in the zone.

Then it happened. The dog. I know the dog, I recognize the dog. I know his owners...but there he was. As I rounded the corner to my street I saw him SPRINTING towards me. "He's harmless," they always say. "He's just a big teddy bear," they chuckle. Well, that big teddy bear (German shepherd mix) sprinted toward me scaring the $#&@ out of me. 

I love dogs. I also love jogging. But the two don't mix. And, I'll pose the same question I posed several entries ago, "If a grown man screams like a girl at the sight of the aforementioned dog and nobody is around, does it make a sound?"

The world, she's still turnin'!

There's not much more I can add to the remarkable events that have transpired over the course of the past couple of days. Yes, I'm hopeful. Yes, I too am drawn to his call to (return) to public service. What a night!

However, it took my eight-year old to knock me back down to earth. On the morning after the election, she asked me who won. I told her Obama, and the FIRST thing out of her mouth was, "Did anyone try to assassinate him?" She's eight, did I mention that?

Living in Texas has it's perks: no state income tax, great Mexican food, tornado warnings, the Jonas Brothers AND Jessica Simpson all live here. But, for us Independent types, living in a scarlet red state can be a beating. And, per my conversation with my daughter, it starts early. My prayer is that all of us: Republicans and Democrats, Independents and Libertarians, Christians and Agnostic, we all come together and give President-Elect Obama a chance. He earned it. WE -- the people-- earned it. 

Vote early, vote often...

Early voting started today in high schools, senior centers, and fire houses all across the state. I can't remember an election that has quite captured the imagination (good and bad) of voters across the country. Through all of the debates, conventions, negative campaigning and mudslinging, we're less than two weeks away from taking this country into an entirely different direction.

I picked the picture above not because of McCain's, "Frankenstein doing the wazzzuuuppp guys from the Bud commercial" impersonation. I picked it because it struck me of the diverse choice we have in front of us. POW vs. Harvard educated community organizer. Maverick vs. Change Agent. Privileged upbringing vs. humble beginnings. The choice is immense, but the payoff could be historic. I admire both of these men greatly, and whomever wins....we are going to be ok. Life will go on, the birds will still chirp, beer will still taste good, and my weight will still fluctuate. Unless something happens to McCain and Palin becomes president. If that happens, I say we invoke the Tina Fey clause. Look it up...