Face-ache

I know I don't have to read everything my friends and acquaintances put on Facebook but, being very nosy, I do. I am starting to find that some people are being so closed-minded and negative that I'm tempted to delete them from my 'friends' list. But I don't, because I'm sort of fascinated by how horrible they're being. Since the start of the year, when Britain opened its borders to Romania and Bulgaria, we've had the predictable spate of 'keep them out' posts. I wonder how many of those spreading intolerance can trace their families back to the beginning of time, without encountering anyone from other countries. 

Then we have the 'all men are bastards' posts, usually from unhappily divorced women who have found it impossible to find a new partner. They post about how all women should be free and independent - doing what they want, when they want, without having to consider the needs of anyone else. Because it's good to be greedy and self-centred - everyone will love you for it.

When I moan about all of the above to Son Number One, he just shrugs and gives me a bit of teenage advice: 'Haters are gonna hate, Mother.' I know... sigh....

There are also the irritating pictures that I'm invited to 'share' with everyone I know: 'Share this if you have a daughter your proud of.' I do have a daughter I'm extremely proud of, but there are enough spelling mistakes in the world without me sharing them with the whole of Facebook. 

On the other hand, through Facebook, I do get to see what The Daughter's up to and make sure she's not been washed away in the Cornish storms. I keep in touch with various relatives I've not seen for years, and get to be jealous of the achievements of old school-friends. I get book recommendations and warnings of OU courses to avoid. So it does have its pluses. 

Son Number One said, years ago, 'You know that nobody lives in your hippy, rainbow-coloured world, don't you?' but it doesn't stop me wishing.