The cat's out of the bag.
The cookie's crumbled.
Pigs flew.
And I joined Facebook.
What you don't know is I joined more than seven months ago when a friend tracked me down thru Marlyse.
When I was The Princess' age I had a friend who had the biggest collection of My Little Ponies ever. Her room was full of trinkets and treasures and My Little Ponies.
I owned a Pony too which my daddy brought home for me one evening.
Butterscotch, like my hair, when I was six.
She's still around.
Apparently she's vintage.
And Miss My Little Pony tracked me down thru my sister and I thought, I've got to get up with it, so I joined Facebook. So I could join the rest of the world.
And now the extremely sad part of my ridiculous story: no one became my friend.
Not even my sister!
Then in January Bridgette's husband Mark convinced Mr. Right to join Facebook and Mr. Right instantly had friends. Like 512 of them sort-of.
Whoa!
Which meant Mr. Right AND The Princess were both more popular than me.
So Vassee convinced me to advertise and one abracadabra later I was a bland version of well-known.
And I'll just say it,
I feel a narcissistic love for you friends who read my blog.
I feel an egotistical tenderness for you friends who want to be my friends on Facebook.
Look deep into your Facebook hearts. I expect the feeling is mutual.
I may never - ever, ever chat with you because I'm actually kind of doing things not on my computer, but I still love you.
Especially because you tolerate nonsense like this.
And I learned that the Internet living is sometimes similar to the real living.
If you want friends, you have to request them.