Facebooked

I've done it, enfin. I've become a member of Facebook. It was Shane Richmond who persuaded me, I suppose in the end, although I've also read somewhere that Bebo and MySpace are for super-young and younger elements, but that Facebook was started at Stanford (or was it Harvard) and attracts professional types. Not that I'm a professional professional type, but I would be if I had a profession... You wouldn't catch me dead on a site called Bebo, and even MySpace has certain juvenile connotations for me due to the people you read about with an account (can't think of any offhand due to appalling memory).

Anyway, one boring afternoon, I thought, what the hell, let's see what the fuss is about, and signed myself up. Needless to say, I love it. It's a fabulous way to waste time, keep up with friends, find old friends, leave silly messages and post idiotic photos. Perfect!

Ten friends have braved the odds to be seen in my company and I've even had some messages. I am not SarahNoFriends, which one always worries about with these things... Once signed up, and invitations to pals sent, will they be bothered to click on the link or will they pooh pooh the idea and consigne my email to the poubelle? The suspense is killing as one waits for the first 'friend' to sign up. Oh frabjous day, calloo callay when one finds a brave soul on the friend list.

You should try it. It's terribly character-forming.

So, Shane, thanks for the tip, and do keep up the good work.

All I need now to be really trendy is to get an iPod. No, I don't have one, or an iPhone or an iBiro or an iWheelieBin. Yes, behind the times, I know, but I never really go anywhere where I need to be plugged in. Is that boring?