Blog v. the Facebook

I am so far behind on my blogging that I could just cry.  Not like, literally cry, because I'm not really distraught about it, but in a figurative sorta way.  There's so much that's gone by (like the month of March) that I've meant to write about, including St. Patrick's Day, my Mom's visit here, that whole tenure thing, my new haircut, the Wedding Present show that we went to in Boston, the Edward Tufte conference I attended....but things are Too. Darn. Busy. This paragraph officially serves as a placeholder for all those things I need to go back and write about.  Someday.

Some folks have suggested (well, perhaps a word stronger than "suggested," more like "cajoled" or even "openly mocked") that I should that I should be on the Facebook.  After all, on the Facebook, I could have posted info about all of the above in quick fashion on my "Wall," so that everyone would know of all these important and late-breaking updates in real time.

I am not on the Facebook.   I've alluded to my Facebook-less existence in a few previous posts, like this one, but generally, I'm just not interested in spending the time on the thing....and I know, from my previous Friendster experience, that I would spend WAY too much time on it.  For lo these many years, I have repeatedly explained that my being on Facebook is not compatible with my getting tenure, and not because there'd be some scandal (although who knows what damage someone could do with a scanner and a pile of photos featuring my circa 1986 perm), but because I would just spend too much time on the FB and then never get tenure, because your tenure file doesn't include your Facebook status updates.  At least not yet.

But at this point, the tenure deal is as close to done as it can possibly be.  I am waiting for the final (really final) vote of the Board of Trustees.  I have recently learned that they don't even vote on us individually: they actually vote on the ENTIRE slate of all folks up for tenure together. 

But despite the imminent arrival of my "job for life" that tenure supposedly (but not exactly really) is, I am still officially never going to sign up for the Facebook, and this article explains why.  I realize that putting all my stuff out on this blog, with a web address that is my home address, also raises all kinds of privacy concerns, but that's my own little hypocrisy, and I can live with it.  At least until I get spooked and go password-protecting this thing.  Which I might do.  Hrm.  Stalkers? Are you reading this right now?  If so, could you just leave a comments and let me know?  Thanks!

So while, we ponder the horrors of "Privacy" in our internet age, I am going to share with you a recent, classic, Conversation with Lucy.  Who knows how much she will hate me one day when these conversations are discovered by our future internet-saavy-insect-robot overloads.

Lucy: Mom, how do I make fart bubbles come out of my head?
Me: Could you repeat that?
Lucy (more slowly): How do I make fart bubbles come out of my head?
Me: Ummmmmm......what makes you think you can do that?
Lucy: Well, you know, the fart bubbles.  Above your head.
Me (utterly baffled): Fart bubbles?  Above your head?  Who told you about these?
Lucy: Miss Christine [one of her teachers at school].
Me: Miss Christine taught you this about fart bubbles?  Maybe we should ask Daddy.
Lucy: FFFFauut bubbles!
Me: THOUGHT bubbles!  OK, that makes a lot more sense.

So, the combination of Lucy's troubles with the "Th" phoneme (which when she says it, sounds like an "F") and her Boston accent (which means she has a hard "A" and drops her "R" when she says "fart") makes for hilarity.

So, anyone, how DO you make either thought bubbles OR fart bubbles come out of your head?  Internets?  Can you help us?  Facebook?  Any answers?  I thought (or fart) not.