Thursday, January 22, 2009
Yes You Can . . . Live Here Too.
Link to my New York Post story: http://www.nypost.com/seven/01222009/realestate/yes_you_can__151286.htm
Thursday, January 15, 2009
How About a Quickie?
Is it me or does Facebook feel like a one-night stand with someone you knew a long time ago? First there’s that twitter of recognition when someone from the deep past “friends” you. Then all the memories (or in some cases maybe their pimply high school face) washes up. This is foreplay.
Should I consummate this?
I can walk away right now, before this goes any further, because let’s face it I don’t even remember knowing this person. Second possibility is I accept the Facebook invite, and we will have the metaphorical version of a one night stand. He’ll/she’ll show me his and I’ll show him/her mine. The curiosity will be sated. See you at the 30-year reunion.
Of course this leaves me open to Facebook’s version of stalking, casual instant message notes from someone you haven’t seen in three decades. I mean ‘how are you’ after 30 years? Hmm, let me see. I’ve had two husbands, 10 jobs, lived in three cities, one child, didn’t speak to my parents, now I do, four cats, one dog, where shall I begin?
Ok, I recognize the weirdness of it all yet I can’t stop signing on and reading my “friends’ ” daily posts. I don’t even understand why it titillates me. Maybe it’s just a great way to avoid writing the next story an editor is waiting for.
My true Facebook initiation began at Christmas when an old elementary school pal sent me a message. She started a Canarsie High School Class of 1979 group, and before I knew it, friends were showing up like, well, lost relatives. Turns out I married a boy from high school who kept his yearbook. It is now our most-used reference book. I just can’t stop flipping through the pages, wondering about all sorts of people I’ve not thought about in at 30 years. Puts me in the mood for a quickie but that’s about it.
Should I consummate this?
I can walk away right now, before this goes any further, because let’s face it I don’t even remember knowing this person. Second possibility is I accept the Facebook invite, and we will have the metaphorical version of a one night stand. He’ll/she’ll show me his and I’ll show him/her mine. The curiosity will be sated. See you at the 30-year reunion.
Of course this leaves me open to Facebook’s version of stalking, casual instant message notes from someone you haven’t seen in three decades. I mean ‘how are you’ after 30 years? Hmm, let me see. I’ve had two husbands, 10 jobs, lived in three cities, one child, didn’t speak to my parents, now I do, four cats, one dog, where shall I begin?
Ok, I recognize the weirdness of it all yet I can’t stop signing on and reading my “friends’ ” daily posts. I don’t even understand why it titillates me. Maybe it’s just a great way to avoid writing the next story an editor is waiting for.
My true Facebook initiation began at Christmas when an old elementary school pal sent me a message. She started a Canarsie High School Class of 1979 group, and before I knew it, friends were showing up like, well, lost relatives. Turns out I married a boy from high school who kept his yearbook. It is now our most-used reference book. I just can’t stop flipping through the pages, wondering about all sorts of people I’ve not thought about in at 30 years. Puts me in the mood for a quickie but that’s about it.
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