A month or so ago my longtime friend Barb invited me to be her friend on Facebook. I didn't have a Facebook account but reluctantly joined. I put minimal info on my page but enjoyed reading Barb's musings on her page. I added a few comments of my own. (Of course I did. Never been one not to talk, even if it is electronic chatter.)
My page still looked like a wanted poster of a train robber who wore a mask. No picture of me because I don't know how to add pictures.
After joining I got a couple more requests to be friends, from a former co-worker and Barb's daughter Molly. Email today had an invite to be friends with Molly's husband. I followed the link on the email and never did find how to accept his invitation. Yes, James, I would like to be your friend but I'll be darned if I know how to accept. While trying to befriend James, I also found an invitation to be friends with myself. My son told me it probably was a different Jane____, but if it is, she looks just like me; a shadowy figure with no face. He thinks I probably (accidentally) set up two Facebook accounts. Maybe, but I am tempted to make friends with myself, except what could I say to myself that I don't already know? On the plus side, I would also feel less guilty about not having my picture on my home page. Neither of us would have photos. Why do I want to see a picture of myself? I have mastered blogging but Facebook may be my downfall.
My page still looked like a wanted poster of a train robber who wore a mask. No picture of me because I don't know how to add pictures.
After joining I got a couple more requests to be friends, from a former co-worker and Barb's daughter Molly. Email today had an invite to be friends with Molly's husband. I followed the link on the email and never did find how to accept his invitation. Yes, James, I would like to be your friend but I'll be darned if I know how to accept. While trying to befriend James, I also found an invitation to be friends with myself. My son told me it probably was a different Jane____, but if it is, she looks just like me; a shadowy figure with no face. He thinks I probably (accidentally) set up two Facebook accounts. Maybe, but I am tempted to make friends with myself, except what could I say to myself that I don't already know? On the plus side, I would also feel less guilty about not having my picture on my home page. Neither of us would have photos. Why do I want to see a picture of myself? I have mastered blogging but Facebook may be my downfall.
On second thought I could always be the first to wish myself a Happy Birthday. I wouldn't forget.
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