Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Facebook Is Shrinking My World

I have that damned Disney song in my head. Because apparently, it's a small world after all.

Here I was, minding my own business going through my Facebook feed. Well, actually, I guess going through my Facebook feed means I'm minding everyone else's business. Unless I'm only reading my own posts, which is either freakishly boring or narcissistic. But I wasn't, so I don't have to decide between the two. 

Anyway... My friend Christine posted a cool new profile picture doing a yoga pose that, should I attempt it, would likely result in damaged furniture and a bloody nose (mine). The usual "Kermit the Frog and 22 other people commented on this post" message was with the post.

I could reasonably expect to recognize the name in Kermit's place because Christine and I know each other through a big group of motorcycling people. But this was Stacey and she travels on four wheels. And I didn't know that Christine knows Stacey.

Small world.

I clicked through to Christine's page where there's another new picture and a note about the photographer who took it. That would be Sue. Huh, I know Sue. She and I played soccer on some of the same teams "back in the day" before I learned my foot was not Y2K-compliant. 

Small world.

The song starts playing in my head.

I post a note on Christine's page and tag Stacey. Ha, funny, small world. Didn't know you guys knew each other. And, oh by the way, I used to play soccer with Sue. Yadda yadda. Stacey responds. That shrinking sound? That's the world. Sue took Stacey's wedding pictures. 

The song gets louder.

Christine responds. Sue took her wedding pictures too. Hadn't seen Sue in quite some time, ran into her a couple of times last week, decided to have her take the pictures. (Excellent choice, by the way.)

And louder. 

Time to turn to something else. OK, well, still Facebook. 

Another friend posted a link to "10 Reasons Why You Should Date a Woman who Rides a Motorcycle." So I'm digging into that because I am, of course, a woman who rides a motorcycle. And I want to make sure TG knows all of the benefits of this deal. 

The author has nicely credited all the photos she used in the article. I get to reason #6, check the photo credit, and... it's one of my co-workers. I had a meeting with him last week about such exciting things as buyer profile research. Didn't know he was a photographer, let alone a badass one.

Someone get this song out of my head. 

I'm going to have nightmares about giant freakishly giddy rodents.

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