Shut up, Facebook. Shut UP. Also, beware the email forward. And try not to cry at work.

To start with, Southwest must have canceled their direct flight to Columbus, OH, and it's like, seriously killing me. I hate US Air. But I just can't justify a connecting flight to Ohio. It don't make no kinda sense. So, in short, you have hurt me Southwest. Deeply.

But you know what I am not going to do with this information? I am not going to post it on Facebook and make you all read about it. Because it is fucking boring as hell, and the only place I am going to put you through such boredom is here, on my own blog.

But did any of us sign up for this with Facebook? Didn't we just want to reconnect with high school friends? Didn't we want to post pictures of ourselves looking hot, and then only tag those pictures, and untag all of the unflattering ones? Didn't we want to discuss our book club reads in peace? Maybe some of us wanted to create a list of all the plays we have ever seen in this life, but goddamnit, that was our prerogative.

To be sure, there are some FB status updates I love. There are those people that are hella funny, and then there are those that really have no sense of humor, but they are so lovable and positive and upbeat that they make me smile all the time.

To be further sure, one might argue that I could not spend glorious minutes of my life reading the status updates, but that's just not practical. I spend a lot of time waiting for planes to take off, and also sometimes watching live TV with commercials (I know: what is this, 1867?). What am I supposed to do during those times?

Sigh.

Yes, I need to back off the Facebook as well. It is sucking the life from me faster than my television. (Oh, which, by the by, the one-hour a day? Not going great. More later.) There was once a simpler time when we didn't have to know what 400 acquaintances were experiencing at any one time, and I want that time back.

This morning Grace forwarded me an email, and wrote: FML.

And I was all: I am so happy you wrote that, because - what the hell does it mean??

Fuck. My. Life.

Okay, I feel about 126 since I didn't know the acronym (I do know that WTF means "why the face?" though). But also - Facebook? For JC's sake: STOP SAYING IT. People use FML all the time in their status updates. Temper your MISERY, friends!

So what now? I can read less, butI can't quit cold turkey. Can I delete everyone and start over? I have to tell you, I know we're all excited about the World Series, but I think the status updates every inning may kill me. Not to mention the stupid Yankee jokes.

And now, out of the bitter barn, and time to play in the hay!

Oh shit, nope, one more thing: I made someone cry the other day. At work. Am a mean, cold Swede.

I can assure you I save my vitriol for the Internet only, so I didn't yell at this person. Something I did (ahem, email forward entitled "FYI") was forwarded on just as callously, and well, repercussions. And ripple effects. You guys get it.

In short: beware the forwarded FYI. I think I shall avoid it at all costs for the rest of my life.

Oh, and another life lesson: never put ANYTHING in writing that you don't want shared with the masses.

(HA! Sayeth the blogger. I am pretty sure I can never run for office now.)

But you guys know what I'm saying.

And on that note, in this entry of absolute nonsense, when I talked to my wise, sensible husband (who is like, my corporate shrink, as he is is pretty reasonable. Although I am sure he wishes my work stories of woe were a little less long-winded.), he was a little taken aback by the crying.

Ah, crying at work. I don't do it. Well, I did it once, and even then I did my best to hide it (to be fair, this was an extreme situation of harassment, but that's another story). I have never cried in front of a coworker or superior at work. I just don't do it. It doesn't mean sometimes I don't want to, I just try to avoid it at all costs.

I did explain to J, however, that women cry. And sometimes at work. It happens. And I don't find it particularly shameful, though I would gauge by J's reaction that men do. "You know how the dudes at your work just call each other and scream?" I asked him. "Well, same deal. But women cry."

What say you, ladies? Have you cried at work? In front of a man? Behind your office door? Menfolk: have you ever cried? Comforted a crying lady? Felt completely comfortable doing so?

And now, to update my Facebook status. FML. I bid you adieu.