I’m not a member of Facebook, but nevertheless, I can be found there. A good friend of mine, who does have her own Facebook profile because she couldn’t escape the peer pressure, directed me to the page of a former classmate of ours.
“She’s put on pictures from high school,” my friend said. “You’re on there, too.”
Me? First of all: I am hiding from all things Facebook and MySpace and Twitter. I agreed to do this blog only if I could remain safely anonymous (like Princess Leia being hidden from her evil father (that's Darth Vader, fem chick)…but more on Star Wars and the internet in my next post). I do not want to put my pictures on the internet. I will put my kitties pictures up, but that's just because they are really funny and cute and they have no idea what they look like. No matter how many tricks Wookie learns, he still can't recognize himself in the mirror. So I don't feel bad exploiting his image.
Even if I wanted to put my latest Glamour shot up, I still don't want to discuss what I do for a living ("so what do you do, anyway?"). Jobs are boring. I don't want to let everyone know where I live ("how did you wind up in Laramie?") because they're probably not invited into my living room. Very few people would care to read a list of my favorite music, books, and movies.
*TWITTER* WooHoo! I’m going to see both Franz Ferdinand and Elton John in concert in April!
There are certain people from my past that I wouldn’t mind reconnecting with. I did know a few interesting people that I lost contact with, and I wouldn’t mind knowing what they're up to and what they look like now. I know, however, that the ones who I would likely end up “finding” on the internet would be those that I never had much to say to in the first place. It would turn into, “Hi, how are you, where are you, no I don’t have any kids, ok talk to you in another 10+ years….”
Even if I gave in and joined (this would certainly be a feat, since I’m no joiner), it wouldn’t occur to me to scan and upload pictures from the olden days. Why would I? Pictures and high school shouldn’t go together. I mean, who wants to see proof of former gangliness and bad fashion and acne? I don’t want to think about being fifteen, and I sure don’t want to look at evidence that I was as dorky as I imagined back then.
Apparently, though, I don’t get a say on whether my image goes on Facebook. I was never even friends with the owner of the page. We shared a tiny class, but we never had anything in common. We were even on the same sports team, and traveled internationally together, but still barely had two words to say to each other. She was popular and rich. Her family was friends with VIPs (ones even I had heard of). I thought she was snooty and boring. I’m sure she thought I was a geek.
But I’m represented on her Facebook page.
So, I logged onto Facebook, using my friend’s password, because she’s nice and she knows that sharing her info would be the only way for me to get online to see this stuff since I refuse to sign up. I am pretty stubborn.
I found the group picture, in which I have to admit that I look totally awesome. That backward baseball cap and Stonehenge t-shirt were pretty rockin’. I mean, if I had to share any picture of me in tenth grade, that one’s probably the one I’d pick. It helps that the photographer was standing a good twenty feet away.
In the photo caption, I’m identified only by first name, un-capitalized at that (further proof of my classmate’s complete disregard for me--I’m not worth capitalizing…). I should enter her name here and see how she likes it.
*TWITTER* Dude!! I totally ripped you-know-who on my blog today!!!
A few people in the picture had their names linked, so that I could theoretically click on them and visit their pages to ask them to be my friend (since I was posing as my real friend, I didn’t do this. She obviously wasn’t so keen on re-friending all these ghosts of the past, either, since they were not on her 'friend' list—well, except for the Facebook page owner, but my friend was always much more tolerant and charitable about the snooty girl than I ever was. And yes, I know I missed an opportunity here of emailing old teachers with questions like "Hey, remember when we held up that liquor store? Good times..." but my real friend doesn't deserve that.) Anyway, as I suspected, the linked names were mostly people I would have trouble finding something to say to.
Why would someone put pictures of tenth grade on the internet? And why a group picture of people that haven’t been spoken to in at least ten years? Is it just to show a unique history? To say, “I’ve been here and been popular and done fabulous things and you haven’t?” To further the middle school/high school popularity contest of knowing the most people and having two hundred Facebook “friends”? This snooty girl would probably accept me as her Facebook friend to boost her numbers, as long as that meant that I didn’t intend to show up at her house for a visit.
As if. I spent the whole time I was in high school dying to get out of there. No way do I want to revisit that social awkwardness via the internet. I would still find these people boring, and they would still roll their eyes and think, "nerd!" when I opened my mouth. I'm not going to purposely go there again.
In the immortal words of Tom Petty: "You can look back, but it's best not to stare."
*TWITTER* Tom Petty is the coolest (even if he is from Florida). I wish I had his collection of top hats. Rock on.
That's right. Cactus trees. I love cacti, and they are just about the only thing I can grow. But my happy cacti are teeny tiny things in pots. Cactus trees are something else. They are so cool. As I drove around Hawaii, I kept shouting, "Cactus tree!" and pointing, like I shout "Prong!" and point to the antelope on Wyoming drives. This prickly pear kind of cactus tree was only one of the many different giant cacti that I saw all over the island. I've decided that I simply have to get to Saguaro National Park this summer.
While I kind of expected to see some lizards on a tropical vacation, I didn't think I'd see one with such great colors and such an inquisitive expression. Turns out this Gold Dust Day Gecko shouldn't even be in Hawaii. His ancestors were native of Madagascar and Comoros and other African islands, but were released by a student on the grounds of Hawaii University in the 1970s. We were kindred spirits. I didn't belong in Hawaii, either. Too big of a water to land ratio.
Even with the ever present thought of being surrounded by water, I did enjoy visiting the tropics. The weather was warm, but not hot, and even the rain was a pleasant change from dry Wyoming. I also enjoyed odd sights like this driveway guard goat. Tethered just like a dog (and having a little bowl of water, too), this goat looked like he was sleeping, but when I approached his glare turned menacing. I think he would have attacked if I tried to get to the house behind him.
You also have to watch out for the quick growing vegetation in the tropics. This pickup was being reclaimed by the jungle in a "The World Without Us" kind of way. I wish more of the ugliness of neglected structures would be overtaken in this aggressively vegetative fashion. Or covered with lava.
