For me, Facebook started my freshman year of college. It was just the basic Facebook. No status updates, no crazy quizzes, no highly specific news stream. Ahh, the good ‘ol days. At this time, Facebook was also only for students, you had to join your school’s network and connect with friends that way. Boy oh boy how things have changed. For instance, my Mom is now on Facebook (Hi Mom!). I love my Mom, in fact at first the idea of her being on Facebook didn’t phase me one bit. She’s seen my pictures, she knows my friends and their bizarre antics, so what’s the big freaking deal, right? Not right.
For one, my Mom has more incriminating and horrifying photos of me than any of my friends could even fathom gathering in a life time. Take this for instance. Nothing screams awkward years like braces and a Furby.
I’m so thankful she left out the “beds” and “homes” we made for them… Um, er, I mean boxes I stuffed it in because it was so lame. I was clearly much too old to be playing with such a ridiculous toy. She also has quite a collection of all the fashion mistakes she made for me as a child. Just check out the bunny stitched on the front of this blue jumper, oh and the ruffly sleeves (I’m on the right). I have to say I don’t know if I’ve seen a more styling Easter outfit in all my years. Ever. Not to say that my sisters stripped overalls are much of an improvement, but they do have just a touch more tact.
So after a year of so of these little gems showing up on my profile, I gave up. You know what Mom, you want to post embarassing things I’ll take it. Everyone was awkward once… or at least that’s what I tell myself.
BUT, there’s a new development in my Mothers Facebook life. She has set up text message alerts for my status updates. Everytime I change my status, comment on the weather or mention the most intimate details of my clearly mudane life, she gets a text message. Let me paint this picture a little clearer. If I’m in the same house, building or even just a phone call away when I update my status, it sounds something like this:
ME: Type, type, type. Submit Status Update. Go about my business.
MOM: Phone Beeps, “Beep, Beep, Buzz, Buzz”. Mom picks up the phone and says “So you’re having a love affair with a kiwi??”
ME: Shocked by the randomness. “Yeah,um, what? Um, I like kiwi’s. What do you want from me?” Eye roll.
Something along those lines every single time. I’m trying to get used to it, but honestly it’s like being in a high school knowing that your mom is reading your diary. And, I know that the moment I get over this, the moment I let it go she’ll figure out a way to video stalk every moment I spend on Facebook, or the Internet for that matter. At least I have something to look forward to.
