This is Why I Don’t Like Facebook

So I was on Facebook earlier, because it is the best place for me to keep up with an old friend who is getting a divorce. And I noticed that the “People You May Know” thingy in the corner was suggesting someone I HATE (or at least, hated when I knew him 15ish years ago) alongside someone I’ve never heard of. Out of curiosity, I clicked on the “See All” link. I know what you’re thinking, and yes; THAT WAS A MISTAKE.

First of all, the next time I looked at the clock three hours had passed.

But seriously, the entire list was people who fit into one of four categories:

  • I hate them.
  • I have no idea who they are.
  • Will went to college with them.
  • My mother-in-law.


But do you want to know THE WORST PART? Of course you do.

I kept coming across names that are so familiar. Like I’d see someone named Evan, and based on our mutual friends I’d think, “I wonder if that’s the Evan I went out with once when I was 16,” so I’d click through to his profile, only that doesn’t help because all I remember about that Evan is that he had long blondish hair and a nice mother, and this Evan has short hair that might have once been blonde but who can tell, and Facebook doesn’t know anything at all about his mom.

So that is why I don’t like Facebook.

I may be too literal.

Today I watched this video from a Jezebel post that someone shared on Google Reader. (Moderately NSFW, requires sound.)

Did you watch? You probably are thinking, “Good for her,” am I right? Well, I agree, but…

Jezebel described it as a video of a woman “eviscerating her subway attacker.” I EXPECTED TO SEE VISCERA. I am deeply disappointed.

Art: perfection

You aren’t the only one who feels worthless sometimes.

You aren’t the only one who took your frustrations out on your children today.

You aren’t the only one who isn’t making enough money to support your lifestyle.

You aren’t the only one who has questions and doubts about your religion.

You aren’t the only one who sometimes says things that really hurt other people.

Go read. It’s, well, perfect.

Links for self-promotion

I’m famous. Seriously, you guys. My Leapfrog pants are the staff pick for August at Blue Sky Alpacas, who make the yarn the pattern calls for (which is my favorite).

The Secret (to stir-fry). This week’s Prudent Pantry is all about the one-pot meal. I’ve been making it every week or two and no one is tired of it yet. WIN!

er, just those two. FOR NOW. I forgot one!

I’m teaching at 4:00. In Los Angeles? Come to the Kitculture Studio Customer Appreciation Day this Saturday, and as a bonus you can hang out with me. Also there’s prizes and stuff.

Links for writers

Hey! Do you write?

Give yourself permission. This is some lovely advice from editor Molly O’Neill, written as part of a virtual writing conference.

Complete your draft! This contest looks like fun. The only novel I am even considering writing is currently 7k words with a goal of 21k, so I won’t be entering. But YOU should.

Want to write like a bestselling novelist? My husband figured out the formula. You can be as “good” as Dan Brown or Stephenie Meyer! And then you can shoot yourself!


I absolutely love this post on YA dealbreakers, aka what will turn you off reading a novel.

Especially this:

4. weakass heroine

i hesitated to put this one on the deal breaker list, because it seems so obvious. it’s like saying, “oh man, if a YA book is straight up nazi propaganda, FORGETABOUTIT.”

then i remembered twilight and how it sold a zillion copies and then i wondered if stephenie meyer could write a book lauding the aryan nation and call it “whitelight” and still turn it into a best-selling franchise and then i had to numb my pain with some bourbon.

If you click through it is even funnier. There are pictures. Thanks, Nova, for the link!

My dealbreakers include fantasy (not all fantasy) and second person narrative (all of it). You?

Me, elsewhere

While I unload four million photos from my camera, edit them, et cetera, perhaps you would be so kind as to check this stuff out:

Johnny Jump-Up, my latest knitting pattern, available for free from Petite Purls. This is a baby/toddler romper, knit in one piece from the top down with raglan sleeves and wide stripes of color. I am thinking of writing up an alternate version with buttons all the way down, including the legs, if there is interest in such a thing.

Prudent Pantry: Easy Side Salads, with recipes from two of my favorite books,


Prudent Pantry: In-Season Southwestern Salad, with a recipe from dear Cassie.

Huh. I thought there was more but now that’s all I can think of. Lucky you! Your assignment is quick and easy. Go, click, read. Reporting back to me is optional.

Foursquare reminds me of my ex-boyfriend.

If you’re on Twitter, you’ve seen people posting from their Foursquare account, announcing where they are at any given moment.

It’s the exact reason people give for refusing to use Twitter, in app form.

Seriously. I roll my eyes like crazy every time someone says something like, “Who’d want to know what you’re doing every minute?” because 1) um, everyone, and 2) duh, that’s not what Twitter is about.

But it is what Foursquare is about. And I FUCKING HATE FOURSQUARE.

I haven’t unfollowed anyone who uses it (yet) but I am sorely tempted. Especially now that I’ve figured out the real reason it bothers me (and it’s not as though I need one).

When I was 18 I dated this guy, Eric. He was a terrible boyfriend for me. I’m not sure if he was a terrible person or not, but ugh–rotten boyfriend. One of the things he did was show up unannounced. All the time. Like a fucking stalker. (My apologies to anyone who has actually been stalked. I am fully aware that this was not as bad.) Mostly he’d show up at my house. This was okay for the most part–I mean, I did like the guy. It was a little awkward at times, though, because I was a live-in nanny. I was friends with the family, but still; it was my job. One time he showed up at a park where I’d taken the kids. I think that time I’d told him where I’d be, but I’m not sure. (Do you remember that sort of detail from 13-14 years ago? I didn’t think so.)

One morning I went shopping with the little girl. We went to Adam’s, a combination grocery and nursery (the plant kind, not the baby kind). They sold amazing fresh produce, some gourmet foods, and milk in real glass jars with a $1 deposit. Suddenly Eric, who did not shop there, popped up out of nowhere, scaring the heck out of me.

That’s right. He stalked me to the grocery store. Back then, he had to show up at my house and ask where I was. Nowadays, people can show up unannounced with far less trouble, thanks (or no thanks) to Foursquare. Which is why I will never, ever use it. And I wish you would all stop.

(Incidentally, that little girl? Hated Eric. She used to bring me his shoes and say, “Eric has stinky feet.” And he did. He refused to get his cat fixed and it peed in his shoes.)