What Be Troubling Ye? A Hot Mama Life Update, Facebook Style

I have been a busy girl. Having a school aged kid who always wants to be doing something, along with a three year old with the ability to climb walls doesn’t leave much time for computer fun. I also realized that I was getting a Facebook addiction, so I was trying to avoid the computer if I could. Those that know me may say, “You have not been away from Facebook at all.” And you would be right. I now have my Facebook linked to my phone. While this may be the same as quitting crack and replacing it with heroin, in my own mind, I am ‘better.’

It has gotten me thinking. Why?? I know I am not the only one. I bet a bunch of you who are reading this post have Facebook opened in another window…you know you are glancing up to it, waiting for that little (1) to pop up. Don’t deny it. This is a safe space. I think people get addicted to the life they create for themselves online. Isn’t it so easy to make yourself seem awesome? So simple to make yourself  hilarious, witty, and fun to ‘be around’? And hot damn, what a caring person you are, too. I think in real life, I really am all of those things. But to what extent?

We all want to make ourselves seem just a little ‘better.’ It’s human nature to want people to like us. None of us wants to feel ugly, so we only put the best pictures of ourselves online. The beginning of the night pictures when we still have nice makeup and good hair. You never see a profile picture of someone at 2AM, black eyeliner running down her face, puke in her hair, ripped shirt, sneaking off with the dude she thought looked like Brad Pitt, but actually looks more like Armpit. None of us wants to seem like a weirdo, so most of us don’t say what we really mean online. There, I said it. The big secret…everyone does it, but no one admits to it.

You know how Facebook asks the question “what’s on your mind?” (or in my case, since I have my face book set up to English (Pirate) version, it says ‘what be troubling ye?’) …you type it in and it becomes your ‘status’? Here’s my ‘status’, what I would say, and  what I really mean.  Cause don’t we all sugarcoat it a little bit? I know I do.

What be troubling ye?

I say: Oooouuuuuchhhhhh. My stomach hurts.

I mean: My ass is bleeding. I got the colitis, I think, but won’t know for sure til I see the doctor on November 16th. I couldn’t get an earlier appointment because I don’t have any insurance and the healthcare industry doesn’t give a shit about me due to my lack of referral. I have barely eaten anything in a month, but I think I have gained ten pounds. Can you explain that to me, Facebook? Can you? Huh??

What be troubling ye?

I say: Just washed my walls…my life is so glamtacular!!

I mean: Ok, well I just spent the last hour Magic Erase-ing my walls of Smiley’s ‘artwork’. Tell me, Facebook, how the hell did he get crayon on the ceiling? He is about  30 inches tall. He clearly cannot reach that high. And I think I am allergic to Magic Erasers…now my eyes are watering and my hands are itchy. This is horse shit, Facebook…a full on Equine dung pile. My kids drive me insane sometimes and I want to rip my hair out.

What be troubling ye?

I say: Some people are only tolerant with a side of wine.

I mean: Damn, Facebook. You are kinda like a shrink. You ask a lot of questions, don’t have too many answers. The thing that is troubling me now is that I just realized half my Facebook friends are jack-nozzles. I wish I could tell them to shut up. Like REALLY tell them…you know like to their faces. But I won’t. Instead, I am going to piss and moan to Hot Papa, write something passive aggressive in my real status, and just stay out of everyone’s way. I am Switzerland.

What be troubling ye?

I say: Smiley loves the movie Marley and Me! I can’t stop crying!

I mean: I have cramps. Bad ones. I am as bloated as a whale. I’m emotional, too. Smiley’s favorite movie right now is ‘Marley and Me’. I have cried 8,572 times in the past month from that movie alone. I am not desensitized yet. My dog is horrible. I don’t think anyone will make a movie about her. She eats tampons. And barf. One time she ate a bra. Ate it AND digested it. It made for an interesting bathroom break the next day.

What be troubling ye?

I say: I love lazy afternoons!!

I mean: I’m bored. Like REALLY bored. And yet I can’t seem to find the motivation to do anything about it. I am out of shape and I am tired all the time. I partially blame you, Facebook. Your constant updates make it hard for me to do anything. I mean, how could I survive my day without knowing that Susie Smith has a migraine? Or that John Doe is on his way to the gym? Don’t forget about the people who have linked their Foursquare onto Facebook. Joe Schmo checked in to the Sunoco on McKnight Road. My world may have very well ended without this information. While all this is wildly entertaining, I better stop reading and get my goddamn act together before Hot Papa gets home. I don’t want him to think I did nothing all day. Hide the bon bons!
What be troubling ye?

I say: Hot Papa is the hardest working guy that I know…love you baby.

I mean: Hot Papa is the hardest working guy that I know…I love him. It is very important that I tell my Facebook world this because I am feeling guilty for giving him a hard time. He works too much and I am lonely. I need adult conversation. I get on his ass about it and it pisses him off. He is working his ass off for ME. I appreciate it, even if I don’t show it. Gushing about him is how I say ‘sorry.’

Admit it, you do it too. Funny how we really are all connected. Not just through Facebook, but in our human-ness. Lots of pretending that we don’t care what other people think. But we do. I know I do! Hmmmm, I think that may actually make an excellent Facebook status.


Hot Mama



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10 responses to “What Be Troubling Ye? A Hot Mama Life Update, Facebook Style

  1. What’s on your mind?
    I suck at life.

    Long version:
    I’ve contemplated deactivating my account for months now. I have a problem, and I’ll admit it. It really makes no difference to me what Suzie Q is doing at this very moment, but it’s outside of these four walls that keep me contained. I’m pregnant. I’m tired. It’s not easy to lug around two kids 3 and 17 months. It’s expensive to take them to the zoo and the Aviary all the time. I get bored playing outside. I’m tired of the same tv shows.

    Sometimes Facebook is my outlet and sometimes it’s my scapegoat. I don’t have my priorities straight and it scares me. What scares me more is that I have absolutely no will power. I don’t want to wake up some day and realize that my kids grew up and I spent every day on facebook. I’m better than that.

    • Hot Mama

      Amen sister. A-freaking-men. I don’t have any will power either…for Facebook, for food, for life in general!! Gah, rainy day blues…

      • I often worry that it isn’t even the residual PPD anymore. That it’s ME. That I let myself get to this point.

        Your post really made me think today. You said a lot of things I’ve been thinking and keeping in. So thank you. It really meant a lot more than you can imagine.

  2. Pingback: Thinking out loud « Sisters From Different Misters

  3. What’s on your mind?
    I’m prone to distraction.

    Long version:
    Bleeding asses. Facebook makes my ass bleed. I have way too many friends that I could give a shit about. Grade school aquaintences. People I hardly ever knew in high school. People I haven’t spoken to since college. I’m tired of judging them and being judged by them. Don’t “like” my comment. You don’t even know me! And Facebook losers, if I get so much as one more Mafia or Farm update from you, I swear I will shove your laptop so far down your throat that your ass will bleed, too.

    So, I’m still on Facebook, mainly for family and party invitations. My new addiction is Twitter. It’s compulsive. I have to read every Tweet in the string. It’s like someone somewhere will die if I don’t read every single effin’ one. Of course, my Twitter is connected to my Facebook. (There’s a sentence that I never would have typed in the nineties.) Twitter now also makes my ass bleed. And if my dog ate a bra, her ass would bleed, too.

    Bah! Rain. Suck. Ass. Bleed. Bah!

  4. Ever since you guys made me get on the Twitter, I barely even look at FB any more. I don’t think I’ve updated my status in weeks.

  5. coffee

    This is crazy that you wrote this blog today! I deleted my FB yesterday. I actually had a c0-worker change my password before I deleted it, so I could not deactivate it. I was just telling Mindbling last night at the gym how FB was the devil and I am so sick of hearing about what people had for lunch or that somebody has a headache. I feel liberated and somewhat relieved that I do not have to hear about what kind of lundry detergent a distant acquaintance is using. Now onto Satan’s sibling…Twitter!!! That is even more obnoxious than facebook. It is a way for the closet narcissist to come out. “ I just made grilled cheese”, “I am hangover”,” my kid’s cuter than your kid”. WHO GIVES A S%*.

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