The RV from Hell

I still don't quite understand what compels parents of adult children to show up with as little notice as possible in an RV, and then proceed to stay there.

As I left the house yesterday I saw a big RV parked in front of our house, and for one split second I thought it was my parents. They've been threatening to "drop by" (We live in Oakland. They live in Panama City Beach, Florida), but they're not supposed to get here until AFTER JULY 27th. I have emphasized the importance of not showing up early, because while my mother understands things like Gay Pride and Folsom St. Fair, my father's reality might be a little jarred by my Dore Alley ensemble.

Last I heard, my parents were heading to my ex-wife's place to see my kids. It occurs to me that my kids are camping with the family, so it's possible that THEY DON'T KNOW MY PARENTS ARE COMING.

Why do parents do this? Is this the equivalent, in their minds, of popping into our bedrooms unannounced when we're kids to make sure we're not listening to Rock & Roll, masturbating, or worshiping the Devil? If so, my parents better HOPE they don't "drop in" early.

Thank You, Facebook, for Giving Me My Life Back

A couple of days ago I sat down to my computer to harvest my chili peppers. And exterminate a rival clan of vampires. And sell my crates of cocoa powder in Cuba to finance mob activity. And lick a lot of lollipops. And... well, you get the idea.

I wasn't able to do any of this, however, because Facebook had decided that my behavior was out of line, and sent me an email saying I needed to shape up or they'd disable my account. Not that they could tell me exactly what it was they found so objectionable, of course, since no human is involved in 99.9% of their processes. Oh, and the account had already been disabled by the time I read the "warning".

Since then I've gone through the five stages of grief:

• Denial - Attempted to log in over and over and over
• Anger - Loudly announced to my husband that Facebook was run by people of below average intelligence with unnaturally close relationships with their mothers.
• Bargaining - Sent an email to Facebook asking them to reinstate my account (ok, I didn't really offer them anything, but it is a FREE service, right?).
• Depression - Attempted to log in a few more times (while unhappy).
• Acceptance - Since then, I have spent more time with my husband. And more time cleaning house. And doing dishes. And job hunting online. And working in our garden. And going to the gym. In short, having a "life".

I've discovered that having hundreds of "friends" who never call and never write isn't really such a great thing after all. And meeting some of them in person is a lot more fun.

So thank you Facebook. For cutting me off your digital smack. The withdrawal was a lot shorter than I expected.