Last month, while I took a breather from massive shopping and eating, I logged on to one of my email accounts. Imagine my surprise when I found 14 invitations to Facebook, from one person – in a span of a week. Don’t get me wrong; I understand the need to invite friends and family to Facebook. However, inviting the same person more than once is a bit much, don’t you think?

By the way, this is the same person who told me I need to get a life because I twitter and Flickr. Never mind I was plurking and everything else in between a few years later. Going through the rest of my emails, I also found an email from her to me, asking what I was doing and she included her phone number so I could call her -presumably to chitchat or something.

I considered replying, I am busy. I do not have time to Facebook with you. That would be partly a lie. I WAS busy. I also am not a huge fan of Facebook but I am there because my plurk and twitter friends are there. And sometimes its kinda fun there. I am addicted to Sorority Sisters although I keep forgetting to log in I lost fights and one of my characters went into depression twice.

That is not the point. I decided to cool off and not reply until after I returned here. I finally did not acknowledge that I received and deleted her 14 invites to Facebook. I just told her that I was away for the summer. Still, she re-sent her mobile phone number so that I could call her.

Should I call her, do I want to call her? If I do, what should I say to her? What could we talk about? I cannot possibly gush about twitter because nobody understands twitter. Nor can I gush about plurk because nobody understands plurk either.

Yes, talk about stuff we have in common. Well, let’s see…….

I have nada.

Well, yes, we could talk about our children. In fact, I think that is all she ever talks about – her goddamned children. Puke. Puke. Puke. Don’t get me wrong, I know mothers are supposed to talk about their children – their achievements, their cuteness, their bright future, etc. Read. My. Lips. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK

Well, of course I give a fuck about MY children. But NOT YOURS.

If you have not noticed yet, I am not very maternal. I have never been attracted to babies, stories of cute baby puking all over parents, having an accident in the bathtub or wherever. I find their smell very offensive. Some babies smell like their parents – icky. I do not find ALL babies cute. I have seen some ugly babies. I understand parents think their babies are the best looking in the world. I get that. But there are FUGLY babies. Honestly. Of course, I am PC enough not to say aloud, “Are you insane? Your baby is NOT cute. At all!” I hate when new parents thrust their babies at me to coo or admire. I never thrust either of my children for anyone to admire. They are just there. If people felt the need to have a closer look, they can walk their arses over to the baby. I do not know what to do with babies, frankly.

Of course as baby gets older, it gets worse. “Oh, my kid is a star student at such and such school.” Who cares?

Obviously as a general rule, don’t ask me about my children while I am drunk or even semi drunk. I could go on about them; their virtues, their vices – anything.

A relative once gushed about Facebook. I was on my third Facebook account at the time. This time I was there as myself. You know, I was using my given name. I added a few of my relatives and old friends. This relative who was gushing about Facebook did not add me. I said nothing. Instead, I said, “What is the point of Facebook anyway?” She started educating me about Facebook. She said people use it for communication. She then proceeded to tell me about various relatives she was stalking there. She could not see me of course but I was raising my eyebrows and rolling my eyes. Obviously she did not want to communicate with me. No matter. I deleted her phone number off my mobile. And I have a new number. She does not know it.

I do not communicate via Facebook with my friends and relatives. I cannot be arsed to explain to them I do not post photos there. That they should keep up with me via my various blogs. That I update my status with making the same dinner every other day. It’s curry or dead cows mostly. Or that I am all about bitching about something or other.

Yeah, I occasionally harvest my farm if I think about it enough. I also sometimes remember to return the favour by harvesting my friends’ farms. And yes, I think Mafia Wars is cool. And those stupid quizzes. I cannot get enough of them. I sometimes forget I had something on the stove or was about to cook something because I was too busy answering those quizzes.

And no, you cannot add me on Facebook. Unless you are going to be one of my Sorority sisters or help me harvest my farm or give me stuff in Mafia Wars. And stop poking me for fuck’s sakes.