It’s cool to hate on Facebook. Lord knows it’s got its problems. But I’m a Facebook girl, and I’m not ashamed. Well, I’m only a little ashamed. I have a lot of friends who live around the country and around the world, and I work a lot and I hate talking on the phone. Were it not for Facebook, I’d have like 2 friends.
Anyway, I put thought into my Facebook posts. I like them to be quippy and witty and tell about actual interesting things that happen to me, like when a drag queen started talking to me in the makeup aisle of CVS about my “prostitutey” lipstick, or when I overheard a guy talking about his uncle “Stubby” who got his finger bitten off by his family’s pet piranhas. These are the things that make me an inveterate eavesdropper. Anyway, at least once a week for the past month or so, someone says, “Dude, you should write a book.”
So I’ve been talking to my best friend, and I was telling her that maybe that idea isn’t so crazy. So yesterday, among the 13 hours I spent at school, all of which were either doing tests or conferences, I started writing a short story, and my goal is to submit at least one somewhere this year.