So Maybe I Was a Little Harsh...

...In my last post. Maybe not. But I do think it's a good reminder that with this world wide web, everything is public. Anyone could read this and think whatever they want to think. I welcome comments on my posts, though I rarely get them. Which is fine too. I know who reads this blog (thanks to tracking software, again nothing is sacred on the Internet).

I will say the incident that happened no longer upsets me, a friend mentioned the event but didn't get into details. And I was the mature person who simply said "okay" rather then "I know I saw it on Facebook, thanks for mentioning it to me. I not only know you went but know who else was there.". Which is what I really wanted to say.

In other news, did anyone watch "House" on Monday night? I love that show. Very well written. The patient was a blogger who posts everything on her blog, every detail of her life. A little excessive I think. I don't post everything because it is public.

This isn't meant to be another rant, just a follow up on my last post. The point is it is public, the world will know, so be careful what you post.

Sometimes Facebook Isn't a Good Thing

And sometimes it is. Today it was both. I found out my girl scout cookies were in (Thanks Ali!), and also found out about an event that happened. Behind my back. Not deliberately, of course. But still it was an event that I thought I was going to help plan and someone obviously already planned. And what made it sting was that the person who I was coordinating with had not bothered to say "Oh it was already planned by so and so". The fact I was not invited doesn't bother me because I don't know the host. The fact my friends were there and didn't tell me it had happened? That is what hurts.

Come on people, when will you learn that if someone tags you in a photo or makes a comment on your status, that everyone who is friends with this person can see it? Unless you mark it private, which you can do in the settings. Which I have done because I really don't think that every single one of my friends cares if I comment on someone else's post or photo.

Why I am hurt at all I don't know. I can say that as time has passed since I found this out, it hurts less. But it did sting. I'm probably making a big deal out of it. Out of nothing. But still...

Check your privacy settings people. Watch out to see who is tagging you in photos. Remember that a comment you make is public for all the world to see, and if you don't want everyone's friend and their friends to see it, don't make it. Send a message. Mark your albums private so only your friends can see it. Actually that would save a person's friend time scrolling through a bunch of photos that doesn't have a single person they recognize, only to come to the one photo where their friend is squinting in the background.

Better yet, don't tag the person at all without their permission. Don't comment unless you want the world to know, because the beauty of Facebook is that the world will know. That's what the site was designed for-to bring people from all over the world together.

This afternoon has served as a reminder to me about all of this. It made me double check all my privacy settings to make sure I was protected and my friends were protected. I love the friends I have on Facebook. They are a cool bunch of people, and half of them I'm related to anyways. But I don't want the world to know everything we do. Do you?

The Past 24 Hours (Well 26 1/2)

~Slept all morning yesterday, rendering me wide awake for the rest of the night.

~While combing my eldest daughter's hair after her bath, discovered hair lice. Yep, dozens of minuscule little bugs crawling in my baby's hair.

~Stripped the bed and started washing bedding and stuffed toys in hot water.

~Drank an entire bottle of Arbor Mist wine, half a beer and a dose of NyQuil.

~Laid in bed for FOUR HOURS praying for sleep and was wide awake.

~Finally got up at four am to switch laundry and do dishes.

~Chased younger daughter back to bed at four-thirty am.

~Chased younger daughter back to bed at five am.

~Did more laundry. Ran out of hot water.

~Chased younger daughter back to bed at five-thirty am,

~Realized there is nothing on television and no one is online at five forty-five in the morning.

~Let both girls come downstairs at six am.

~Woke hubby up at six am to inspect daughter's hair and make the decision we needed to keep her home from school, aggressively treat her hair and notify the school.

~Helped made pancakes for breakfast.

~Notified school and kindly suggested to the innocent secretary that perhaps the nurse should check the whole first grade class, not just Lissy's class, as the kids are constantly being switched around for reading groups, lunch and recess.

~Helped Lissy wash her hair again, blow dried it as hair has to be perfectly dry to apply treatment, applied treatment and shower cap, and let her sit for four hours. Still, well as still as you can get a seven year old to sit.

~Explained for the thirteenth million time why the younger daughter could not come near the infected older daughter or risk getting hair lice in her waist length (two and a half feet) of hair, and why it is easier to treat a bobbed haircut for lice than a longer hairstyle.

~Thought I was going to throw up for the millionth time, then realized I had a hangover. I was just too tired to notice.

~Sent hubby out for hangover food (aka McD's).

~Ate lunch, felt worse than before.

~After finally recovering my hot water, took a shower with elder daughter where I had to rinse, comb, shampoo, comb, condition, comb her hair to double check that there was not a single little bug left on her entire head.

~Wrote this blog post.

Evening plans include finding something for dinner that won't upset my stomach, blow drying my hair and perhaps even curling it, and then attending first a prayer vigil for a missing man (who the police have given up on) and then a bible study afterwards.

Maybe then I'll be able to sleep. So far it's been twenty-six and a half hours and still not the least bit sleepy. But thoroughly exhausted.

Olympics

I guess considering I'm watching them with bated breath, I should post about them. I am not a huge sports fan, follow soccer because my husband does. I know football, hockey and basketball but have zero interest in who wins, much to my husband and brother's chagrin. I can watch a sport and get into it one minute, and forget it the next minute.

But for some reason I find myself glued to this year's Olympic Games. I watched the Opening Ceremonies minute for minute, finally conking out when Wayne Gretzky headed out of the stadium and for the permanent cauldron. And everyday since then, I've had them on. Even in the background, like now. Sports I don't know anything about (everything that happens on a mountain or a half-pipe), have suddenly become riveting.

I think it's feeling the pride to be an American, having our country represented for the world to see how we can kick some serious a$$. And if we don't win? I don't really feel disappointed, but rather immediately lose interest in the sport.

And true to form, the one sport that has both my husband, myself and a significant portion of the country riveted is curling. The tweets I've seen tell me we aren't the only ones, though why watching a giant stone slide down an icy run is so fascinating is a mystery, but it is! I have to admit this afternoon I was watching more than John, though I tried to feign interest I think he knew. And this is a sport I know zero about, don't even know how they score the damn runs.

So I keep watching, glued to my television. Just posting this I keep stopping and starting. The downhill portion of the women's slalom, an interview with Shaun White and Lindsey Vonn. Ask me who these people are or what the last half of the slalom is and I will admit ignorance.

Okay....break time. We have now moved onto the Women's halfpipe, and I find myself riveted. Riveted. Why? I do not know. But I am enjoying. So all I can say is...

Go USA! Kick some a$$, all in the spirit of peace and goodwill, of course.