"I'm on Facebook!"

Now, how do I get off?

Somehow and someway, I got sucked into this social networking website. I was invited by one friend and now Hurricane Katrina has ravaged my computer. I've entered into Jonestown without the Kool Aid. This is fascinating and appalling at the same time. And, after two days, I can add confusion to my state of mind as well. This freakin' thing is strange.

If you thought Facebook was simply some website where teenagers went to discuss the latest adventures of Hannah Montana, you are sorely mistaken. Nope, I'm finding on here lots of friends who are as old as I really am and also as old as I say I am. When you first set up your profile, your birthdate and year is required. I quickly edited that profile so only the former showed up. Those that know can smile. Those that don't can guess.

There's even more profile you need to fill out so you can connect to people in the most appropriate manner. I was asked for Activities and listed a bunch. I was asked for Interests and I referred readers to the Activities section. Frankly, if you're active in something, you must be interested. Duh.

I started to fill out the section about Favorite Books seriously but then simply listed Henry Huggins by Beverly Cleary, a little ditty I read in the fourth grade. Under Favorite Quotations, I started to write FDR's famous statement about fear, but ended it with "The only thing we have to fear is Eleanor catching us." There's an All About Me section and I basically referred everybody to this blog, which is conveniently all about me.

Then you connect to friends you know who also are listed with Facebook. The system tells that person you have listed them as a friend and then you get an e-mail that tells you said person has confirmed you as a friend. Is that all it takes? Trolling around, I found the son of one college friend who has 600 friends to his credit. At what point is the number excessive? Right now, in my life, 25 is barely manageable. And who's got the most friends on Facebook? Is somebody available to monitor these types of records? And just who out there in the universe really gives a shit?

When you sign on to check your mail, there's a place to write what you're doing right now. And people actually do this. Way too much information. So-and-so just whipped up a nifty tortilla soup. So-and-so is taking down Christmas ornaments. I'm actually tempted to go on and write "Len just shot the Fedex guy in the hallway" but I'm afraid some dope will take it seriously.

You can "throw snowballs" at somebody. No clue what that means. Frankly, I moved out of the Northeast precisely to avoid these types of projectiles. You can supposedly "poke" somebody and, depending upon where you are poked, this could be fun or detestable. You can somehow claim TV characters as friends. One of my pals is attached to Dr. Gregory House and I now think I have serious concerns about her.

Of course, when you want to write somebody, you put the message on their wall and, in my mind, this promotes vandalism in society. And then they write on your wall and I want to tell them to get off my property.

Admittedly, I'm new to this nonsense and don't have the hang of any of the nuances. But, I've got 20 friends already so I'm only 580 behind that son of my college friend. And I will keep trolling and trolling and trolling around this thing until I find out where Valerie Bertinelli is hiding.

"Valerie Bertinelli has confirmed you as a friend."

Oh, God, I wish!!

Dinner last night: Sausage and peppers.