I’d forgotten how addictive Facebook is

… I brought my computer (a Mac! a Mac!) home to *my* apartment for the first time, and hooked into the internet without deadlines, and without feeling like I should be doing something else. Thoughts as I go along: – it looks cold in Pittsburgh- many of my friends look great, a few the worse for wear (i wonder if Facebook means people actually think more about image, and therefore exercise more, ’cause they’re posting pix of themselves all the time…?)- I am living a pictureless existence and should figure that out. I.e. buy a camera. – The people whose pictures I most want to see don’t post very often on Facebook. Also those who do post often post pictures of things I’m not interested in. Like random objects. You know who you are. Also, yes, I’m a stalker, but a lazy one. – When I joined facebook in college, everyone was my age or older. Now there are highschool kids (hell, middle school) on it. And my uncle. I want to come up with some grand theory about parallel exclusionary/inclusionary social networks, but again. Lazy. – I go back through my pictures (especially my profile pictures) and it’s like going back through time; each picture means something, carries a memory or two or ten. Taken all together, my pictures (not just the profile ones, but all of them posted to Facebook) span five continents and almost as many years. I’m getting older. In theory, at least, I’m getting wiser.- I wonder if everyone changes as much as I feel I have in the past four or five years. Wonder if everyone’s so obsessed with understanding the way people work. I suspect not. … then I wonder what other people think about all day. I bought a mattress and a white comforter, and these deep yellow/gold 1000-count sheets. Something I learned from the last place I stayed in; this Australian guy (who rented me his place for a month while he was gone) didn’t have a lot of furniture, but he had all the essentials down right; the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept in, lots of pillows, an extra-wonderful shower head, alcohol in the fridge/freezer. I suspect after those essentials, everything else is immaterial. There are these signs up in the bus system here; a wine bottle and a water bottle, both on their sides, heads pointing inward. Says above the wine “nice to have” and above the water “essential.” Earthquake warnings. I have an earthquake kit in my drawer. A brick of food that could feed you for at least ten days. Water. Bandaids. God knows what else. … i think i’m too tired to be blogging. talk to you later :) ‘night…