Okay, Let's Go Classic: From October 10, 2008 (previously unpublished, who even knows why)
I signed my mom up for Facebook, partly because I want her to be hip and cool and partly because she hates scrapbooking so much. Many women her age scrapbook, and while scrapbooking is beautiful to look at, my mom and I are alike in that we share a mild contempt for anything besides stuffing photos into boxes marked "to go through someday." Or, as Russ and I have taken to saying lately when anything we don't feel like dealing with arises, "Hey, let's let future Russ and Sarah worry about that." It's actually very convenient. I highly recommend letting your future self worry about those ten boxes full of highly flammable photos. Or making wills. Or stocks.
Ha! Stocks being valuable. That's a little October financial humor for you.
To re-continue: My mom loves "the Facebook" and I realize that I signed her up at the exact right time. Because I realized, as all children of Cubs fans must realize at some point, that any social networking site simply becomes another venue for the bizarro-world roller coaster ride that is Cubs fandom. Earlier this month, I received some good natured heckling that involved me living in L.A. as part of the nefarious conspiracy known in Chicago as The Dodgers. This good naturedness was, of course, before the Dodgers finished the Cubs in three games and became, again, the butt of every joke. Once that happened, and in three humiliating games, I made the mistake of joking on my mom's Facebook that now it was time to root for the Dodgers.
Big mistake. Imagine fervent denunciation, so passionately Cubs-centric that there was no time for capital letters, just time for multiple exclamation points!!!! Then, my aunt told me I was breaking my Gramp's heart, rooting for those evil Dodgers. (I'm not sure what makes them so villainous — any insights on that?) Not being able to resist, I made it even worse by joking that Dodgers championship wear was coming their way for Christmas. I think my mom and the extended den of Cubs fans might have had a small stroke upon reading that, explaining the intriguing follow up comment of "aaaaaaaaaaaaa."
I should probably stop torturing Cubs fans. But if they didn't like torture, they wouldn't be Cubs fans.
I signed my mom up for Facebook, partly because I want her to be hip and cool and partly because she hates scrapbooking so much. Many women her age scrapbook, and while scrapbooking is beautiful to look at, my mom and I are alike in that we share a mild contempt for anything besides stuffing photos into boxes marked "to go through someday." Or, as Russ and I have taken to saying lately when anything we don't feel like dealing with arises, "Hey, let's let future Russ and Sarah worry about that." It's actually very convenient. I highly recommend letting your future self worry about those ten boxes full of highly flammable photos. Or making wills. Or stocks.
Ha! Stocks being valuable. That's a little October financial humor for you.
To re-continue: My mom loves "the Facebook" and I realize that I signed her up at the exact right time. Because I realized, as all children of Cubs fans must realize at some point, that any social networking site simply becomes another venue for the bizarro-world roller coaster ride that is Cubs fandom. Earlier this month, I received some good natured heckling that involved me living in L.A. as part of the nefarious conspiracy known in Chicago as The Dodgers. This good naturedness was, of course, before the Dodgers finished the Cubs in three games and became, again, the butt of every joke. Once that happened, and in three humiliating games, I made the mistake of joking on my mom's Facebook that now it was time to root for the Dodgers.
Big mistake. Imagine fervent denunciation, so passionately Cubs-centric that there was no time for capital letters, just time for multiple exclamation points!!!! Then, my aunt told me I was breaking my Gramp's heart, rooting for those evil Dodgers. (I'm not sure what makes them so villainous — any insights on that?) Not being able to resist, I made it even worse by joking that Dodgers championship wear was coming their way for Christmas. I think my mom and the extended den of Cubs fans might have had a small stroke upon reading that, explaining the intriguing follow up comment of "aaaaaaaaaaaaa."
I should probably stop torturing Cubs fans. But if they didn't like torture, they wouldn't be Cubs fans.
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