My Grandma Needs To Not Have Facebook

My little brother showed my grandma how to use Facebook about two weeks ago. He signed her up for an account, and she thinks it's great. I'm slightly more ambivalent about the embarrassing messages she's been leaving me ,and also about the fact that she friended my dad (my parents are divorced and this is my mother's mom). Yeah it's kind of weird and embarrassing that she has Facebook, but it makes her happy.

What I can't tolerate is her calling me up to tell me, and I quote: "I read your cynical Facebook updates and they hurt my heart."

I went back, looking at my status updates for the past two weeks, and I honestly don't know what she's talking about. In the past two weeks, I've updated about:
*Having a cold and not feeling well
*The condition of my bathroom as my landlord is fixing it.
*Getting new pet rats.
*Whatever I'm cooking that day.
*The health care reform

The only thing I can think that *might* be cynical to her is the stuff about health care. And I'm sorry, but you not agreeing with my political views is not the same thing as them being cynical. How is me wanting health care for all people cynical? Oh wait, it's not! My grandma is an Obama supoorter too, so I don't get it. But I can't exactly tell my grandma that if she doesn't like it, to fuck off or ignore it. And if it's not the health care stuff, then I have no idea what else it would be. If me updating that I'm annoyed there's a gaping hole in my bathroom ceiling is too much for her, than she needs to not use the internet at all. Thanks a lot little brother, because giving grandma Facebook was apparently like opening Pandora's box. I guess it's time to change my privacy settings.

Is This Thing On?

I used to be an avid journal writer. It seems that my desire to write about my life was directly related to how miserable I was feeling at the time. Unsurprisingly, the journals from my teenage years are full of entries, and I even wrote a lot during my time as an undergrad. I haven't really written much in the almost two years I've been in grad school, which is weird.

I would have to say being a graduate student in philosophy has made me far more miserable than undergrad ever did. I feel like that one fish who's swimming with a school, and then next thing you know every one stops for burgers and conveniently forgets that you were in the bathroom, leaving you behind (don't fight my non-sensical analogy). I'm struggling to keep up, when I used to feel like I was on top of my studies. I never had anything lower than a B in my philosophy courses as an undergrad, and in most cases I always got As. Those Bs were usually in 8am classes, because sleep was just more important at that juncture in my life.

Now I'm almost done. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, after fighting through an existential crisis in which I almost dropped out and defected to Canada. Every one asks me what I'm going to do with an MA in philosophy, and I don't know what to tell them. I figure life is bound to get exciting, once I take my useless degree and embark upon the world.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.