Clearly We Have No Life…and Varying Definitions of Social Networking

When the boy and I started dating I had to explain many things to him.  For instance, he didn’t know what a blog was.  He also didn’t understand my definition of social networking.  When I started spouting off words like Tweeting, Facebooking, etc he stood there and looked at me like a deer in headlights.  Poor thing didn’t even have an email address until February…four months after we started dating.

When I attempted to explain social networking to him and why it was so important to me, me, who at the time was working from him and excluded from the outside world, he looked at me and said, "Social Networking to me is a bon fire and a six pack."

I just laughed.

When I attempted to get into gardening and the like (remind me to give you an update on the penises that I planted) he attempted the social networking and asked me to set up a twitter account for him.  All of his followers are my friends and I’m very protective of his account.  He doesn’t tweet much, but he’s met some of the tweeters when I’ve drug him to tweet ups.

Tonight I had the opportunity to witness first hand his definition of social networking.  He wasn’t lying when he said it was a bon fire and a six pack, but there were fireworks at this one.  We watched a huge fireworks display in the middle of a field called "the land" and there was someone there from Maine who started a huge discussion over whether or not yonder existed and if it did, where it was located.  I’m with him.  Yonder is foreign to me. As is a fur bit, fair piece, etc.

I think we were the only Yankees there but I tried to keep my northerness under wraps.

I had to laugh as when we got in the car the boy said to me, "See?  Social networking.  A direct message would be to get punched in the face."

And as we headed down the road, I said to him, "Yeah, but you don’t get wet or get smoke in your eyes with my variation of social networking."

"This is true," he replied.  Unfortunately, the party ended early (at least for us) because the skies opened up above us and since I wasn’t drinking or bombed out of my skull, the rain was a damper for me.

So we found ourselves home on a Saturday night earlier than expected with no kids.

"Can I harvest my cotton real quick?" I asked.  (Hold up.  Let me tell you that I mentioned at dinner that my cotton was ready on FarmTown and he offered to drive me home before we headed to the party to harvest.  What a man!)

So I sat down and got sucked into this stupid online game that I only play because everything goes right in FarmTown and had someone harvest my cotton while I harvested her peppers and carrots. (Side note: I harvested real carrots from our garden today.  They are purple.  We thought that perhaps we could make the kids interested in eating something that was purple.  We’ll see.  I’ll also note that it is much more fun to harvest in FarmTown than it is in real life.)

The problem was, I had to find a stranger to harvest for me because at midnight on a Saturday night, NONE of my farmer friends were online.  Making them either (a) getting sleep or (b) having a life.

So, when that was all said and done, the boy was on his phone.  When I asked what he was doing he said that he was checking Twitter.  "I have to clean it out everyonce in a while or it gets backed up," says the man with nine followers.  I chuckled.

As I came in to shut the computer down, he said, "Um, there’s a new Pocket God version out."

Now, if you’re not familiar with Pocket God, you should be.  Well, at least in the boy’s eyes.  If I want time to myself, I just sit him down with my iPod Touch and he’s occupied for HOURS.  No, I’m serious. Hours.

And you can name the little pygmies and my 12 year old got the bright idea to name them the names of the 6 of us.  So at varying times when someone is playing the game, you’ll hear phrases like, "Why did you kill me first?" or "How do you want to die?"  It’s humorus.

So, I downloaded the latest version for him.  I’m serious… it’s the best 99 cents I’ve ever invested in quiet time because after a late night trip to the grocery store because we had no dog food or contact solution (I drove so that he could play… because I’m that good of a girlfriend) he’s sitting over there playing and eating his Klondike bar and I’m sitting here blogging about it.

So, clearly, and I mean clearly, we have no life.

I can prove it with this next statement.

If he’ll play just a little bit longer, my coffee will be ready to harvest and then I can either upgrade my farm to 24×24 OR buy a pond. I’m still on the fence about the next big purchase.

Heh.

Until next time…