Face

I spent a good deal of yesterday running back and forth between Cedar Rapids and Vinton, once because of my own lack of organization (forgot my gym bag), and once because of some drama at school that my son found overwhelming (no harm, no foul - he doesn't ask for much in this regard). In the end, I just took some hours I had banked and called it a wash.

It got me thinking about "blow over." My commute is a rural two lane stretch of Hwy 218, straight north through corn fields to Vinton, the county seat of Benton County. I put my camera on "fast" and shot about 80 pictures rapidly through the windshield. The best visuals seem to be with the sun behind the snow, so that the light reflects all the flakes and makes them stand out. I missed the best conditions, but these are still some nice COLD pictures.

I've been messing around with Facebook, something apparently a few of my middle aged friends are doing as well. It all feels a bit managed to me. It feels as though the site is primarily about self-definition (and obviously networking) and comes with more than a little spam and neo-spam. My friends may find this surprising, but I only have so much patience for self-definition. At the age of 50, I'm a little less involved in definition than interpretation. I'm defined, for God's sake; I'm just not sure what it means. Fussing with the meaning of things and keeping an eye on balance and pondering what comes next.

There's this guy I've known for quite a while, who appears, Zelig-like, at events and gatherings, spouting blather, hail-fellow-well-met, and talking about himself, mostly. He's where he should be all the time and when he's not he's with some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend. . . etc. Anyway, he was the second person to "friend" me on facebook. I know more about this guy's movements in the past three weeks than I ever cared to know. Now if I "un-friend" him, it will be announced all over my "network" as though we broke up. Definitely not worth it. Another woman posted her macrobiotic diet and the fact that her husband speaks three languages. I don't know her either, and I don't care what she eats. Or when.

Before I get dressed and drive north through the blowing snow to my eminently satisfactory but not stressfull enough (ironically) job, I will log on to facebook and try to think of some clever way to indicate that "Sam is sitting in a chair scratching his ass." which is what I do every morning before I get moving. If I log on the same time every day, that's what it's going to say, because that's what I DO this time of day.

Part of life, like snow, and my first "friend" on facebook. Cheers!