As you can tell, I don't really blog anymore. That's a combination of apathy and time-suckage from other things in my life- work, knitting, cooking The Riches. Like Facebook. I used to spend a lot of time on the social networking site. But I don't anymore- it's too painful. I keep finding out things I don't want to know- like that everyone gets bloated in old age, like your high school friend you were sure would dump the jerk married him and has two kids, like some people died.
I have a picture in my head of the friends I don't keep in touch with- the jerk-dater got over it and went back to school. The guy you had a crush on in grade six didn't get puffy and partied-out- he went on to play almost pro-baseball. Or the roommate you had who was a little crazy and wild grew out of it, didn't die from it.
Facebook has robbed me of that picture. When I think of these people from my past at all it is with fondness for the fictional ending I have created for them, and with no desire to know the truth. Despite the fact that looking for the truth in things is what I have been doing as a job for years.
I wonder if finding out I am not married, have no children, and still talk to much is unsettling to the people who have looked me up? I wonder if they think maybe I have put on too much weight or should have stayed with that other guy?
What I am learning is sometimes it's better not to be a keepintoucher at all. Sometimes it's better to hope for the best and leave it at that.
Oh, and I post all that self-absorbed garbage about what I am reading/doing/listening to on Facebook instead.
