Crap I decided Facebook didn't need to know

Is your every thought, movement and belief appropriate for Facebook?  When most people accept friend requests from colleagues and old college friends, neighbors, and extended family, how much of your information do you really want to share with them?

My general rule of thumb has always been, if I wouldn't share pictures of my recent vacation with you in person, you don't need to see them on Facebook.  It seems harsh these days to decline a request from someone I went to elementary, middle and high school with, however that same person didn't say hello to me in the grocery store last week.  So why do they need to know that I was out celebrating a girlfriend's birthday last weekend?  I've taken this hard line as far to start de-friending people that have never really been a friend in the first place.  After all, it's not called Acquaintancebook.  Although not everyone shares my strict rules for accepting friends, they should accept the following guidelines for appropriate Facebook etiquette:

1. Changing your status more than twice a day is ridiculous.  What could you possibly be doing that needs a play-by-play?
2. Checking in every time you go to the gym, work, McDonald's, whatever isn't needed.  The paparazzi aren't following you, just live your life. It's just your casual way of bragging.  Going to work isn't a triumph, it's a requirement for being employed.
3. Posting hourly pictures and updates from a vacation, especially if you are out of the country, is disgusting.  It does not imply that you are having any fun, in fact it implies the opposite, that you are filling your days staring at your phone instead of the blue water and fruity drinks in your pictures. 
4. Live streaming the birth of your child is not necessary.  That is a private moment with you and your family, the world is ok if you keep it that way. 
5. If more than 50% of your profile pictures are selfies, people are mocking you.
6. Posting vague, melodramatic updates only makes you look simple and dramatic. 

Being a good friend isn't really all that hard.  You just have to be a good person first!  

Outsiders don't know

For the two people in an intimate relationship, they are the only ones that truly know what was shared.
Outsiders get half a story, the relay of sweet gestures, the sting of hurt feelings, trumped up charges and overinflated praise.
We make decisions off second hand knowledge.
We don't love them the way they love each other, so our judgement will never be the same.

Biffles for Realsies

My sister is my best friend, she gets me, everyone needs that in life.  Especially when I'm being irrational. 

 Because sometimes I just need to bitch to someone. 

 

Or complain about how my free time is driving me crazy.

 

And luckily she understands that I'm a crazy cat lady

 

But ultimately only your best friend is right there with you all the time.

 

 Even if is just to talk about As Seen On TV products.

Because she knows when she needs to complain about her most recent fad diet, or explain the hierarchy of LA Fitness to someone, you're there.  Text messaging convos labeled White Girl Problems to follow. 

Quick Pitt Stop

Pittsburgh is probably the most (unjustly) hated city on the East Coast.  Everyone assumes this landlocked home of the Steelers is also devoid of culture and entertainment.  And I am here to dispel this rumor!  I had the opportunity to spend a few days in the city with my younger sister and she showed me some of the hidden gems.

Right out of the gate we hit the big time with Pamela’s for some serious breakfast chow.  This local diner earned its cult following the right way- no reservations, quick service and delicious food.  There are no photos of the aforementioned food, because we devoured it as soon as it hit the table.  I was lucky to be able to sample both the the Chocolate Chip Banana Pancakes and a Western Omelet while I was there, had I had more time to rest my stomach, I would have ordered more food.  The potatoes alone are worth the drive from Maryland, it has crossed my mind to go back just for them!  

 Following breakfast I was taken around the Strip District, one of my favorite things to do in a new city is wander and see what you bump into.  

 

This area of the city that used to be home to mills and factories is now a beautiful ethnic mash up that spills from the storefronts into the streets.  If you walk a few feet from the taco stand you’ve hit a Korean Market, just around the corner from an organic produce stand, and down the street from a boutique that makes pottery.  Every food craving you could have can be satisfied in this cultural epicenter, either for a quick bite or a to prepare a special meal.  Combined with wonderful shops that carry locally made products, beautiful gifts and more tourist toys than anyone could consume in a lifetime.  A must-stop is the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company, which not only cures meat and cheeses on site, but also imports countless Italian products from chocolates to olive oil.  

Since all the things we bought at PennMac were gifts, a stop at Peace, Love, & Little Donuts was required.  Mini donuts made fresh in front of you?  Um, yes. 

Delicious dinner spots while I was there included Dish Osteria and Meat & Potatoes, both were amazing!  Feel free to look up their online menus and reviews, the feedback is not fabricated and the dishes are as mouthwatering as they are described.  The city hosts a lot of wonderful eateries, for either lunch or dinner.  If I had been in town longer I would have gotten very concerned about my waist line. 

And no one can say no to champagne…

If you’re in the South Side, Big Dog Coffee for a latte or French press, cannot be beaten!  Sooo delish!

All things considered, I wouldn't be opposed to another trip around the Steel City :)

Meet the Glam Squad

The picture that most women have of themselves in their head is of a graceful and delicate angel, one who is capable of handling both their personal and professional life with ease.  Someone who men desire, women aspire to be and children adore. We cling to this idea of our Dream Self with the thought that if we believe it, it must be true.  However no place shines a bright light into all the dark corners of your life more than the gym.  Each January droves of women re-enlist in the health regime that has been mostly abandoned since last winter, and drag themselves back to the House of Health and Torture.  Instantly the inadequacies of your everyday life are on display for the rest of your community.  The gym has designed their world to point out your shortcomings quickly and in a public forum.  However attendance is mandatory, if either to justify the purchase of multiple pairs of yoga pants, or the terrifying thought of the upcoming events that strike fear into the heart of every sane woman: bikini season, friend’s wedding, high school reunion, etc.   

We begin by attending the high-energy choreographed classes with the spunky instructors, only to remember how uncoordinated we really are.  Our clunky feet fail to respond to the many messages our brain sends them – step, pivot, knee, hands, twirl and shake!- leaving the attendees around us to judge how far behind we are on the steps and how unlikely it will be for us to return.  The exercise equipment at large provides no added comfort, the lines of machines and neat rows of weights taunt you, they too can see you are out of your depth.  Your expensive education does not prepare you for knowing what each of these torture devices do, and how they will make you look more like the celebrity currently poised on the cover of Vogue.  At long last we settle for tred mills, stationary bikes and elliptical machines, these simple and repetitive movements are one we learned at an early age and therefore we must be able to repeat them on this contraption.  However the boredom is quick to set in and the cycle continues, the health and fitness world remains one of the most odious places for the majority of the female population.      

That is expect for those women that belong to the Glam Squad.  Every gym must have a group like this, as I am certain my very small town cannot be an exception.  The Glam Squad is comprised of the overly tanned and toned young women who you assume look that way as a result of good breeding, rather than months of sweaty socks and sore muscles.  They troop into the middle of a workout area, their bright and dry outfits complete with designer sports bras peeking out from underneath skin tight tank tops, casually color coordinated to match their sneakers.  The Glam Squad is capable of working out in suggestive poses while carrying on light conversations with one another, seemingly without losing their breath or breaking a sweat.  Their long hair frequently down around their shoulders, grazing their arms and being rearranged as they change activities.  These women are both judged and envied by every other female in the room.  Is it possible that they are that fit through this light-hearted workout?  Have they been genetically altered to not sweat when exerting energy?  While underneath the judgment there is a cord of envy, ultimately everyone must acknowledge that the Glam Squad is there only for looks.  They want the credit of attending, the ability to say they went and brag on Facebook about the number of times they check-in.  

 
Their ultimate goal is not known, however what can they achieve from being so dolled up at the gym?  Hair curled, fresh make-up applied, sipping smoothies near the entrance, one could mistake the front desk for a hostess stand at a local restaurant and the Glam Squad may as well be waiting for their table to be ready.  As much as you want your body to emulate a member of their team, most will admit how ridiculous their behavior is, and label their activities with scorn.  Primping has a place, and it is not side-by-side with my moaning, groaning and unattractive sweating.