It’s true, I don’t kick it that much. I don’t go to bars very often, don’t go to a lot of shows, art openings or plays. I’m trying to be better about it- both because I’d like to have a life, and also I fear having nothing to say (I feel your pain, Becky). But the other weekend my girl came to visit from Chicago and we went out for real. This lazy, home-body, married Jew stayed out until four thirty AM dancing it up! I was SOOOO proud of myself. 

Guess why I went out? Besides the fact that I wanted to show my girl a good time, and not bring shame on myself… The main reason was that I swore off Facebook for the weekend. Yeah, that’s right, I had to consciously say to myself, “Sara, your girl is in town. She doesn’t want to sit around and watch you fuck around on Facebook, mkay? You need to get off your ass and go out. Have some good times, I don’t know, flirt a little, get a little crazy, what have you.” That’s right, my inner monologue said “what have you”. I swear. 

So, I did it. I didn’t fuck around on Facebook, on this blog or on Gmail. I didn’t read blogs that make me angry and make lists of things to bitch about to Jessica later. I just kicked it. It was glorious! I actually had conversations! With strangers! Drank a little, and dropped it like it’s hot, a LOT. 

My boyfriend, Facebook, was a little peeved, but it’s not like I didn’t check in at all for the whole weekend, to be fair. Oh, and my husband was cool, too. He thinks I’m lame, too. 

Do I have a problem? I mean, last night I fell asleep on the couch at ten and when I woke up this morning SO MUCH had happened on Facebook overnight. It was glorious to have 13 little notes, or whatever they’re called, but I kinda’ panicked… “What did I miss?! Is this bad?! Is this bad?!”. Wow, I think it might be a problem. I blame the ladies from work, entirely. You know who you are. Now I have no life, and Facebook has replaced real social interaction. Rough.