I’ve been on Facebook barely two weeks, and I’ve already made two Facebook blunders. First, I thought my English teacher from high school was friending me, and I told her that I was now a writer. She looked exactly the same as I remembered her over 20 years ago, but “your husband looks old,” I said. Well, come to find out the next day when I looked at the bottom of her profile page, it said “Male.” This meant that it was my Bible teacher and not my English teacher, and I had just insulted him! (The profile picture included both of them, with her face being prominent.) I let a day go by, not knowing what to do. Then I got up the guts to grovel, so I sent him a message. Thankfully, I remembered that he had been a humorous teacher, so he probably got a good laugh out of the whole thing.
The other blunder was much bigger. Someone had clicked that they “liked” my fan page. (It’s on the right-hand sidebar of my blog.) Anyone who enjoys my website and blog enjoys me. So of course I wanted to be her friend. Well, when I looked at her profile, I stopped dead in my tracks. Her profile was nearly identical to an American that I dated while I was in England. I thought to myself, I wonder if he’s stalking me and posing as a woman who likes my blog. I felt uneasy, not knowing if I should unfriend this person. But if it was a girl, and she loved my soul (I mean my blog) I wanted to have her in my life. I’m a public figure, after all, and I like making new friends.
Well, she posted something so unbelievable that I commented, “I find this hard to believe.” There was crack, a prostitute, steak, shrimp, human dung, and a tornado, and all of these things happened in one day. So I couldn’t help but comment. (Keep in mind she reads my blog about homeschooling.)
She immediately sent me a private message. She was hurt that I basically called her a liar in front of all of her friends. The way she spoke was definitely girly, bordering on PMS. (I often speak this way myself, being a girl, so this is not an insult.) That was definitely not the guy I knew in England (the jerk from the blog entry “My Love Story, Part 1″). After reading all of her long messages, I loved her and I felt so bad. I didn’t know what to say. I told her I was wrong, and that I was so sorry. Then I told her that I was frieked out about her profile, that matched this guy I used to know. I asked her if she knew him. She said, “Yes!! Oh my gosh!! I could have told you he was a jerk.” She gave me more information, and I knew that she used to know him, because there was no way she would know about his arrogance, his music (he was a musician), etc. By the end of the conversation, I felt like I had finally made things right. Apparently this woman’s husband works in a bad part of town where he gets propositioned by prostitutes, crack addicts, and apparently steps in human poop. And yes, a tornado hit on the same day. That was confirmed by the news. Finally her story made sense.
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