Nothing is worse than signing onto Facebook, getting excited you have a friend request, and then seeing its your fourth-grade-brownie-troop-leader who is not only miraculously still alive but also alert enough to sign up for a Facebook account.

It’s not that I don’t want to see what my wonderful leader is up to, it’s more like I don’t think I need to see it through Facebook. I would love to visit her at her nursing home and hear all about her there.

And even though everyone is allowed to have a Facebook nowadays doesn’t mean they should have them. I’m allowed to buy Depends, but it doesn’t mean that I am going to start wearing them. I work very hard at participating in age appropriate things and I wish everyone else would follow my lead.

No matter who the over-aged friender is, I’ve learned they all share three traits in common.

1. Over-usage of applications
Immediately after accepting their friend request (and putting them on the most limited profile possible) they start throwing vampires, sending goblins, and flinging hug requests. I’m forced to spend more time blocking applications than stalking people’s wall-to-walls. And it seems that for every application I block, five more spring up in its place. Yesterday I blocked the hug-me application request and today I woke up with 14 new requests from the hugger application, huggiest application, huggable application, and hug thrower application. I don’t even know what hug-throwing could possibly mean but I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in at least 34 states. Read More »

I remember being in middle school when I first heard about Supergrass. I always wondered if their name wasn’t just code for marijuana…and I still wonder that after having seen them in NYC at Webster Hall…but I mean that in the best of ways. The band, to be honest, gave me a whole lot more than I bargained for. I went into the show rather aimlessly with a friend and waited for them to start their set.

The crowd around me was buzzing, filled with twenty and thirty somethings; all thoroughly enthusiastic about the show. I sipped on my Corona and waited. Finally, the band boldly took their stage-hollow-body guitars in hand.

Automatically, I was taken back by their energy and their actual songs. Unlike so many other acts these days, they didn’t employ a crew of dancers or fancy lighting techs to help take the focus off of their songs. (Note: Why do so many bands do that these days? Wouldn’t it just be cheaper to work on the music than to hire an entourage of cover-up specialists? Just a thought.) They brought their songs to the table eagerly and the audience eagerly received them. Read More »