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Facebook-A Family Affair?

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I live in a different country than my family so communication via the internet is priceless for me. I generally use Facebook for all my familial web interaction and until recently that’s been perfectly fine. It was when I received a friend request from my mother that things starting getting a little weird. Of course I accepted her request and did it without a second thought. I now realize I should have considered this a little more carefully. I’m left asking myself, “Should I edit what my mom might be reading on my Facebook page?” There are certain things I don’t need my mother knowing. I often times rehash old memories with friends on my “wall” and some of those times might be hard for dear old mom to deal with. Drunken nights in bars with no windows, no discernible health codes, loud music, and plenty of tequila. I did more than my fair share of debauchery and mummy need not know about it. I’m much more comfortable with her knowing me as her nice, practical, easy-going daughter than the hell raiser I used to be. So in the end, I edited. What I couldn’t help was when friends would initiate a post going something like: “Hey Erin, remember that time you got wasted at the company christmas party and hopped on my back and tried to ride me like a pony??” That’s a direct quote from a former coworker and fellow loose cannon. In fact, that was one post that my mom actually commented on simply saying, “hmmmm…” Great. After that I decided, hell, she’s the one who wanted to be “friends”. If she can’t take it, she doesn’t need to read it. I’m 30 something years old, dammit. I don’t need to go sneaking around my mom. She no longer gets on Facebook. I suspect she ran into some similar problems handling my brother’s posts whose had numerous messages from the staff at Facebook about inappropriate material. He likes to say things just to get a rise out of people and usually succeeds. So, with that problem out of the way I’m set, right? Wrong. My niece, 13 years old, pops up last week with a friend request. Now of course I’ve got to accept, how could I not? Now what do I do? I edit. When friends initiate hot topics I reply and hope that my sweet little niece doesn’t notice. I keep my posts G-rated and my rants to a minimum. It may be the deciding factor in my decision to start a blog. No editing here!!!! Fuck fuck fuck! Yay!!!


About eid2323

I've got a lot to say. I guess that's why most people start a blog, right? They've got thoughts, ideas, gripes, whatever, that they feel they must share with the world. Kind of egotistical, no? I mean, who's really going to read this? Am I so interesting that I can hold your attention over the rest of the world wide web? Strange to think that it could be possible. If you've read this far, you should know a little 'about me' as this portion is titled. Ok so, I live in Central Italy with my husband and daughter. He's an Italian citizen, I'm an American citizen which makes our baby...doomed, as well has a dual citizen. The cultures do more than clash. They kick, bite, and beat the crap out of eachother. You have to have a very worldly outlook to marry someone from another country. People around the world are raised very differently from one another. What's perfectly normal in one area of the world is cause for major concern in another. I stand in front of the fan to cool off when it's August and the heat is insane and the humidity keeps you sticky 24 hours a day. My husband is convinced I've some sort of superhuman powers to not have caught some serious illness by doing this. Sound senseless, it is. Italians are full of ridiculous beliefs that hold no ground outside the land of make-believe and nut-cases. But who am I to tell anyone that the sayings of their great-great-great Aunt Maria are bullshit? So I just listen and nod. Well that brings you a bit up to speed on my current situation, yeah? Ok so, read me blog now kiddies. Toodaloo!

2 responses »

  1. Poopface Killah

    Vaffanculo, cazzo, stronzo, merda e porca puttana


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