This morning I did my usual nosey around facebook with my morning cuppa. I've never been one for 'social networks' until fairly recently but I find it a good way to keep up with everyone since we moved across the pond. Mostly I steer well clear of all the gimmicks. Things like the recent 'change your profile pic' thing which, this weekend, someone pounced on and spread the ugly rumour, again via facebook, that it had been set up by paedophiles to entice children to join the group, are not something I join in with. For two reasons. Firstly I cannot see how changing my profile picture or status 'raises awareness' about something that is a fact of life. Any of us who truly care about anything are more than aware that child abuse, violence and paedophiles exist, and I think that covers the majority. We don't need to 'raise awareness' we need to stamp it out, by being vigilant, reporting anything suspicious and, more importantly, the police and other professionals need to act upon that in a timely and effective manner. Secondly, you never really know for sure whether the thing is genuine, unless of course you wish to trawl the websites like Hoax-slayer and Snopes to check it out first every single time. Personally I'd rather spend that time actually communicating, in a meaningful way, with my friends!
HOWEVER, I did find a thing called status shuffle which, I confess, has given me some amusement! Apart from the irritating bad spelling like "...making ends meat" and "...doesn't know weather to.." I did find a lovely one this morning, it read..."This morning I opened my mouth and my mother came out". Oh how true! Have you ever noticed that, as we get older, this seems to happen? When we were younger we often fought this urge with all our being, determined not to say those irritating things our mother said. Like when you can't find something, mine would say "Well where did you see it last?" And I would roll my eyes to the heavens and get quite exasperated, "Mother! If I knew that then I would know where it was and I would be able to find it wouldn't I?" But now, at the grand old age of 49, I often hear my mother talking and I suddenly realise it's me! And just for the record, I don't really mind anymore!