I gave in.
I wasn’t going to, but I was curious. And you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat. I’d hate to be thought of as a cat killer.
So, I did it.
I set up a Facebook page.
Thanks to Bon, Sarah, and Erika, who’ll now be collectively called the Original Corruptors (O.C) for either writing about Facebook or putting up a widget thingy on their blog to tempt me. I fell right into your well-crafted trap. Well played, my friends, well played.
As if I didn’t already have about a zillion rounds to make each day, you forced me to add another addiction. Google Reader (113 subscriptions and growing daily…another thing to “thank” you for, Erika), two email accounts, MySpace (which has lost it’s luster since finding Facebook), Sk*rt, Maya’s Mom, my own blog, my playgroup message board…and now Facebook? How am I going to have time for all of this and child rearing?
Since we women can’t even go to the potty without each other, I thought I’d share this Facebook phenomenon with you. Go set yourself up. But don’t come crying to me when you get addicted. Blame the O.C.
When my husband comes home from toiling all day in the mines and says to me “woman, go fix me a chicken pot pie* when I’ve prepared nothing for dinner (or even thought about it), I’ll pour all my blame onto the O.C.
*First person to guess the movie reference to ‘fix me a chicken pot pie’ wins an autographed napkin from me!**
**Actually, you don’t win anything. Unless you really want my autograph or a napkin, to which I’d say “um, okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay?!”