Fruit, Photos, and Facebook

I don't know why I keep taking photos of what I'm doing in the kitchen. Maybe it's because lately I've spent so much time on the computer that my only "breaks" take place five feet away, around the corner.

Among my morning tasks (washing Ibis' work shirt, squeezing OJ, sweeping) is making a shake for Ibis. Now, this isn't a shake by the standard definition. There is no dairy, and there are vegetables.


I've tried this a couple times, and yes, it's nasty. But Ibis loves it. I get everything prepared and let him blend it when it's ready so it doesn't settle. *vomits a little in mouth*


A funny side effect to making this every morning is my mind think I'm eating a lot of vegetables when, in fact, I'm not. I keep trying to remember to nibble on these while I'm preparing them, but I seem to only eat the fruit. I really need to get better about that.

Now, about Facebook. If you aren't on there, why not? What's stopping you? Because really, I'm on there pretty much all day and I miss those of you who don't have an account. It's like a constant party that one or two friends refuse to attend.

But be warned, it's very addictive (as you've probably heard.) My friend John pointed me to an op-ed article in the Washington Post by Kristen Hansen Brakeman that sums up the addiction nicely:

I started to check my friends' status updates a few times a day. Then a few more times. Soon, I was keenly interested in the hourly updates of their infinitely more fascinating lives. Wow, Leslie and Michele worked on the inauguration. Eric took his family to Disneyland. Jeremy had a great time at the Super Bowl. Braggarts.

Then she tried to get her husband to join:

"Come on honey, you should just join. There's no harm in it. And if you don't like it you can always quit. All the kids are doing it."

Then it got ugly:

I began to neglect my duties at the office, so busy was I uploading photos and posting links to hilarious videos. I learned to hide my omnipresent Facebook page by keeping a work-related document open on my desktop, which I would click on whenever my boss happened by.

Finally, she quit cold-turkey:

It hasn't been easy. During the first 48 hours, I lay awake wondering what I was missing: what trips my friends had taken, what jobs they were working on, what "cause" they were now "fans" of. As time has passed, the edge has softened, though my curiosity is still omnipresent.

So, what are you waiting for? :D

eta: Finished product. Barf.