No, don’t argue, I’m DEFINITELY leaving Facebook. 

Theres something a bit poetic about this week. Something a bit Four Weddings and a Funeral-ly about it. 

By Monday I’ll have shadowed three weddings, actually married a real life couple (my very first one. I’ll never forget their full names and dates of birth – I practice-married them using stand-ins about a million times) and attended a funeral. (The aforementioned Horrible Thing is finally over. Or it will be by Monday when we say goodbye to my mother)

I’m going through a bit of a dry spell, blogwise. The blogging muse refuses to descend. I’ve usually a head full of nonsense but other than the odd earworm swirling around (today’s was Elton John belting out “THAT’S THE CIRCULLLL…THE CIRCULLLL OF LIIIIFE”) my head’s been a bit of a Gobi Desert, and I’m mooning around wondering what time of day it is and whether it’s okay to eat a half stale Krispy Kreme doughnut for my breakfast. My diet’s been appalling this past fortnight. I’ve metaphorically eaten my way around the world. 

The real reason I started this post was to say I’m deactivating Facebook for a while. I’ve been saying it since Tuesday but still haven’t done it. What’s wrong with me? I announced it again last night to the assembled throng that is my family, and Brenda (sister in law – lives in Holland. I must do a dramatis personae so you can all follow who’s who) scoffed passive aggressively, saying I’d never do it. I could TOTALLY leave Facebook. Any time I jolly well like. She says I’ll post a status giving everyone advance warning so they can beg me to stay, then 24 hours later I’ll post another one saying “RIGHT, THAT’S ME AWAY THIS TIME. NO I AM, REALLY”. As if I’d do that. I’m not in the slightest bit needy. 

But seriously though, I’m deactivating Faceyb for a few days. I’ve too much on. 

PS – is it just me or is making that bloke on The Voice last night wear a faux-fro a bit odd and, might I venture, a teeny bit racist? It made me uneasy. And wearing a flesh coloured jumper with his disconcertingly erect nipples atop his obvious manboobs (oh come on – you were thinking it too) to meet Usher was ill-considered. I’m embarrassed for our nation. 

PPS I’m still gutted I missed Usher at the SECC Hydro last week, having had the tickets for almost a fucking YEAR. Not that I was resentful, mind. Oh okay a tiny bit of me was shaking my fist at the universe for its shitty timing, but I’m only human. 

PPPS – (phone autocorrected that to POOPS which made me LOL). Things that annoy me number 9 million: I was enjoying a chat with Les on the phone (I know! Me! On the phone! Like a proper grown up! I didn’t even scowl at it when it rang!) (actually..on reflection, this could have been a text conversation, so let’s not get carried away too soon – I’ve got false memory syndrome – remind me to phone the doc about that tomorrow – oh and remind me to tell him about my nocturnal Prader-Willi – last night I ate a lump of treacle toffee and a bag of Mini Cheddars at 3am) and we were talking about my favourite thing – misused turns of phrase and grammatical errors that make us want to grind my teeth to bloody stumps eg 

  • “it’s literally a mindfield” (double whammy) 
  • “pacifically”
  • “Could of” (see also “would of” and “should of”)
  • “Proberly”
  • Wrong use of loose and lose
  • People who type breath when they mean breathe. 

God I sound like a right bitch. Feel free to unfriend me on Facebook. It’ll save me having to announce my departure if everyone just unfriends me. Thanks in advance because this is literally a mindfield. 


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