sunday adverbs, vol. 4

Finally

After reading about updates to Facebook’s privacy policy and, more importantly, its new privacy-settings controls(1), I decided to re-activate my Facebook account. Since your Facebook account is never actually deleted, merely de-activated, all of my old info and old friends were still there.

Part of my issue with Facebook had been all these ‘friends’ that I frankly didn’t care about in real life. For almost a year I hadn’t had to read about these’s people’s lives and exploits, and I enjoyed it immensely. Not knowing what I don’t want to know about people I don’t really care about felt like the way things were meant to be.

I asked myself, ‘Bo? What would Ben do?(2)

And so began The Purge. Before anyone knew I was back, I deleted them all. Then I started from scratch. Now I have a much more manageable list of friends who a) I care about, b) I like, and c) my online connection with them doesn’t de-value the word ‘friend.’

Surprisingly

After years of not joining, one of my best friends had  joined Facebook. However, when I re-joined I didn’t even think to look for her because her joining would have meant that the world would have ended soon thereafter. On Thursday, though, she emailed me saying she’d joined awhile ago but since I wasn’t on she couldn’t tag photos of me. And I said, But huzzah! I have returned! I sent her a friend-request which she accepted and now that were friends on Facebook out friendship is totally official.

Woot!

Hirsutely

One of my other friends, the indomitable Hilly, posted the following. I saw this when I got to work on Wednesday morning and it affected the rest of my week.

This started what is currently a five-day phase of listening to little more than 80s rock. Thursday night I spent almost all of this month’s music budget on hair rock and power ballads: Skid Row, Firehouse, Damn Yankees…you can check out my music page to get a better idea.

Loudly

And yesterday, while Ashley was at a training session all day, I dragged out the electric guitar and rocked the eff out. It’s funny: With all the shit I’ve forgotten over the years and the shit I can’t remember from two days ago, I can still remember every fucking note of Once Bitten, Twice Shy.

Frighteningly

If you’re with someone and if you and that someone have discussed having children in the future and if either of you have had a lung transplant and if you don’t want to scare the shit out of yourself, do not read articles in scientific journals about studies of pregnancy in lung-transplant patients. Holy Land of Terror Batman.


  1. New to me, anyway.
  2. As in, Lost’s Ben Linus, who continues to be my hero as is entering the elite list of Bo’s Favorite Fictional Characters of All-Time.
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