Monday, February 9, 2009

Ordinary Never Felt So Cool

Hi, I'm Ann. And I'm a Facebook addict.

("Hi Ann".)

I have been introduced to the highly addictive worldwide social network known to my friends as "Crackbook". I didn't mean to get involved - but my friend Ang set up a page for me, and in an effort to prevent her from posting falsehoods about me and my life (like for instance, some wild tale about how I got so big when I was pregnant with Cal that I ripped the panel out of a pair of maternity pants...crazy stuff like that), I had to take over my own Facebook page. Since that fateful cyber-coup, I have to admit that I am enjoying Facebook. I have gotten in contact with friends I don't call as often as I would like, family I miss terribly but don't see, and people from my past that I never thought I would connect up with again. All in all, Facebook has been great.

One of the features of Facebook is that you can search for people from your high school or college. It's a great way to find old friends and see what they are up to these days. I just found another former theater major form college on there - can't wait to see what he is up to! Its the next best thing to attending a class reunion (and far easier than trying to find the perfect outfit to wear).

This morning I had this moment of...curiosity. I wonder what old friends and acquaintances think when they see me on there. Sure I have gotten out of Warren County and all of PA for that matter, but I also am not on the fast track to CEO or busy researching a cure for cancer. I am a stay-at-home-mom in my 30s doing my best to raise two boys who someday will hopefully eat a whole meal without saying something inappropriate. I have a fun husband and a great dog. My friends rock - they are hilarious and solid, and I would give any of them a kidney if they needed it. I make a killer cheese ball and fabulous banana bread, I love to write, and one of my favorite times of the week is when I volunteer with the elementary kids at church. If I didn't know me, I would think I was (gulp) boring. On Facebook, I am ordinary.

For all of Facebook's cool features, there isn't a tab yet to record how entertaining the moment is when Cal hangs off my neck and yells, "Everyone! Hang on to your mutha!", or how precious praying with Jude can be, or how my stomach hurt from laughing with my friends Friday night. I'm not sure people can see how much I adore my husband or how happy I am being his wife. Of course, it also doesn't show the tougher stuff of life - how I have been sick for almost two years, how I hate seeing my friends go through tough times, or how I struggle with doubt and purpose some days. For all its features, Facebook is two dimensional. And my life is three dimensional (and if Calvin had his way there would be a time warp as well).

Yes. On Facebook my life is ordinary. My accomplishments amount to a few funny photos and a completed 25 Random Things About Me list. But in reality, I have to remember that my life is full and rich and blessed beyond measure. Sure, I'm just a stay at home mom living an average life in an average suburb.

I gotta tell ya, ordinary never felt so cool.

1 comment:

Renovation Girl said...

I have been refusing to do Facebook for a couple of reasons. 1-already spend far too much wasted time messing around reading blogs. 2. There are some people who I just don't want to reconnect with. 3. I have gained much weight since college. While I still look fine, I know people from college (and I guess high school) will comment on how large my face has become. Not sure I can handle that.I know it is inevitable...I would love to reconnect with my college roommate to whom I have not spoke since her wedding day ten or so years ago. But, I think I'll wait until summer when I have more time.

In the meantime, EMAIL ME who you found on there!!!!! I'm dying to know. There is one particular theater major friend of ours who I would love love love to reconnect with, although I doubt he's the Facebook type.

Great post and oh so true. I think as I age I realize that the measure of our lives is not counted by our financial or career accomplishments, but the relationships we have forged and the lessons we have learned.