In explanation...

As some of you have already noticed, I am a Facebook drop-out. That's right. It doesn't mean I don't want to be "friends" with you, really, it doesn't! But here's the reason I got out:

I couldn't take the stress. I couldn't decide who should be my friend and who shouldn't, first of all. Just because we graduated from the same high school or live in the same state or met once at Miles City Bucking Horse Sale in the 90's seemed really great reasons to share details of our everyday lives.

And that stressed me out, too. I get kind of attached to friends. I care what happens to them and pray for them and worry about their dogs....I can't seem to have casual friends; they are all terribly significant to me! Well, I discovered on Facebook, people post little things that caused me to worry all day and check back 6 or 7 times. Would Kristi get Reece to take a nap, thus avoiding the 7 p.m. meltdown? Would Vic release a black-footed ferret in Jane's wheat field? (I still don't get that particular function of Facebook.) Would Andrea go get groceries or just stay home? The suspense sucked me in. And yes, I realize that may mean my life is a bit...slow paced, shall we say.

My best friend from high school totally scared me when I was looking at her recent pictures and a little window popped up AND SHE TALKED TO ME! I had no idea what to do or how to answer her. I was also feeling a little guilty looking at her pictures, even though they are public. I finally found the chat button, after nearly locking up my computer, and told her what a lovely family she had. But the whole experience took 3 years off me, and besides that, she shared that she was able to pull the 4 gray hairs in her head that she found that week. Now I'm stressed because (and this is probably too much information) I have that many gray hairs, weekly, mind you, on my chin. This I was not going to share with her, and I probably shouldn't share with you. But I'm on a roll. If I catch you looking at my chin, in certain light, I will start crying, right there in Walmart, in the hair care products and lipstick aisle.

Have you ever put on a dress and felt sort of funny, sort of not-quite-yourself, but you talked yourself into wearing it because it was pretty and everyone you asked said you looked great? At the end of the evening, you were exhausted from trying to adapt yourself to the dress, even though there was nothing inherently wrong with it. Facebook was a gown that fit all wrong, for me. So here I am, back at Cohagen Chronicles, in my gypsy skirt, relieved that the blue satin is off, and hoping everyone else at the ball is having a good time.

Now, if you want to tell me details of your life, please leave a comment. I dearly love to hear from you! And I will be keeping track of you and praying for you and laughing with you, but PLEASE don't ask me to put that dress on again. It clashes with the gray.