Facebook fanaticism

I've got about 160 friends, and the list is growing. Who knows? Maybe today I'll have five new invitations for friendship. It feels so warm and fuzzy to know you're loved out there in that vast network of cyberspace.

I've read the columns about Facebook. I've seen the "60 Minutes" segment. I've thought about the insanity of signing up to spend even more time on the computer, checking my email, my blog comments, the sludge report, the blogfather's Huckleberries, the stock report, the headlines, my friends' blogs, more email.

Yeah, I really needed to sign up for Facebook as much as I need more snow to shovel---which IS happening this morning, by the way.

Who says we're sensible when it comes to the Internet addictions? I've found that the addicts come in all forms, ages, persuasions, etc. There really is no clear profile for computer addiction, just as there is no common denominator for my 160 Facebook friends except they know me or they know someone who knows me.

I can see how Facebook could become a sickness. I refuse to let that happen, but I'm not minding my occasional check-ins when out of the blue my cousin from Chicago wants to be my friend. So, I sign up and look for her face.

What do I find? A leg sticking out, reaching into space covered up with a cast.

And, as my son and Facebook friend, Willie, commented to my cousin, who became my friend yesterday, by the way, "that leg looks like it's had better days."

Willie's observation was among many that have been left for cousin Karen to chew upon while she hobbles around. Love Debbie--she's my lovely daughter-in-law and my bosom Facebook buddy---simply said it was nice to be Karen's friend. In the meantime, my older brother (who's been married a long time on this day) warned his new friend and longtime cousin that he may spew a little of the conservative Republican mumbo jumbo her way.

I looked at Cousin Karen's friends and saw a whole bunch more of those Chicago Irish Catholics on her list---and they're cousins too. So, I asked a few to be my friend.

I'm sure when they get the invitation, they'll look at it and wonder "Who the Hell is Marianne Love" and why does she have a book cover for a face.

Well, as far as I'm concerned, my book cover looks a lot better than cousin Karen's leg in a cast.

People put funny stuff on Facebook instead of their faces. Other people like their faces so they put them on there for their profile and for their photo albums, which are loaded with photos of their faces.

Speaking of Marianne putting a book cover on for her face, I decided after a month's time of really getting serious about Facebook and having so many friends who include students, some of which I haven't seen nor heard from in nearly 40 years . . . howz that for too long of a sentence?

Well, I'll start over, lest I confuse anyone. Anyway, I decided to put my actual face on Facebook, so I found a photo of the Love family, including Mia Wallace (Facebook pseudonym for an unidentified immediate family member). The photo was taken in 2003 the morning Mia took off for New Zealand.

I posted it the other day, noting that some hair had grown longer and many in the photo had slimmed up a bit. And, that we had all aged well.

A few hours later, I found the photo from my www.mariannelove.com website mysteriously posted on the site. I accused Lynn who lives in England of doing it because I may have pointed her that direction when we first connected a couple of weeks ago. Lynn was my student in the early '70s and a former Ponderette. Her dad John Major sold real estate in Sandpoint for several years.

I didn't hear a word about Lynn for maybe 20 years. Then, Willie came home from U of I one weekend and told me his speech teacher knew me. Her name was Lynn Major. We corresponded maybe a couple of times and then I lost track of her. Lo and behold, Lynn showed up on Facebook from her computer in England.

My Facebook friends include my friends---some of which did the initial plunge and haven't jumped in since---there are oodles of former students, members of my immediate family, my extended family and even outlaws (those are folks who are related by marriages).

The other day I finished the obligatory sentence: Marianne is . . . . In this case, I said something like Marianne is just back from snow shoeing in Meserve's field.

That prompted a comment from Mandie who suggested that she loves to snowshoe. Once again, I thought, "Who the heck is Mandie?' I looked at her picture and still couldn't figure it out, even though I told Mandie she could be my friend a while back. You see when you've taught 4,500 students over 33 years, some of them get married and change their names.

So, I had just figured Mandie must have had a different last name when I knew her in a past life.

Well, it turns out my pea brain finally got into motion and perused some of Mandie's photo albums. Suddenly, the light went on. Mandie was none other than the Meserve's granddaughter, whom I've met a couple of times but had maintained no name connection. She just looked a heckuva lot like her mom Becky. So, that's what was planted in my mind.

Well, anyway, Mandie and I are now new best friends cuz we have a bigtime connection every time I go snow shoeing in her grandparents' field.

So, there ya go. A few tidbits about Facebook. I'd sure like you to be my friend, and take it from me, you can do as much or as little with Facebook as you wish.

The bottom line, however, is that it's a lot of fun, and you'll be surprised who's out there wanting to be your friend. By the way, if you get on there and want me to be your friend, make sure you pick the right "Marianne Love." There are a lot of me out there but probably only one with a book for a face.

I also know there are more than 400 Scott Brown's. I know that because I haven't yet picked out the right one from the pack to respond to my nephew's invitation to be my friend. Just like I picked the wrong Kathy Chambers from Tampa Bay. Wish I could just find the right Kathy Chambers from Tampa Bay who lives in Sandpoint.

Maybe I'll have to just call her up and ask her to be my friend.