It's just that there hasn't been much to talk about this last week. Nothing interesting, at least.
Oh, there was the Iowa caucus where most of my lifelong-Republican family members participated as Democrats. (Stay the course, Dubya! It's totally working!) And I bought some of those giant bleach tablets for our toilet tanks. And I drank an entire alcoholic beverage (Mike's cranberry lemonade!) on Saturday night as I played Uno with some friends.
But otherwise, there's just boring stuff to report. Like the fact that I'm STILL writing my Christmas letter, now with the goal of getting it in the mail before June. And that the fiancé and I are eating every chicken breast and raw vegetable in sight and running to the gym every moment that's not nailed down because in two weeks we'll be on a gay cruise and people might know that we had cookies at Christmas.
And I joined Facebook. Which I like much better than MySpace. Because the kids on MySpace add huge sound files and busy background art and unreadable fonts to their profiles, and I just don't approve. And MySpace seems to be infected with email viruses and Asian teenage hookers who pester me to be their friends.
On the other hand, Facebook has a clean, readable, unmodifyable layout. And profiles of people I haven't even thought about in 25 years. And groups with names like Stephen Sondheim Could Kick Your Bitch Ass. And pictures of my friends' parties. Parties that I was conspicuously not invited to. But you can totally tell in the pictures that the people aren't having any fun because I'm not there. Because they have their arms around each other to hold each other up to stave off the collapsing weight of my absence. Even though they're smiling.
Of course, I have no beef with Friendster. Except that nobody uses it anymore. Then again, how does a person "use" a social networking site? I mean beyond the wasting-time-online definition of "use"—a definition that could never be applied to blogging. Especially to information-filled posts like this one.