The highs and lows of parenting and real estate.

Browser Blackmail

Dear Facebook,

Can we talk about this?

I feel like you’re trying to say I might have a problem. And… well I’m willing to aquiesce that my quest for the perfect swimsuit has gotten a little out of hand as of late.  It’s just that I truly believe a swimsuit exists somewhere in the universe that will cover my flaws while simultaneously showcasing my assets, stay in place and project a fun, carefree image. I know it’s out there. I’m sure of it. I believe this down deep in my core where I also know Hogwarts really exists and at least one of my children will be rich enough to support me in my old age.

So the point is, you gotta kiss a lot of frogs when you’re searching for a prince, right? I admit I’ve made some mistakes. Buying online and out of season is a terrible idea. Purchasing a large top because it’s on sale and they’re out of smalls was a hilariously misguided idea, unless I’m planning to store my cover-up wedged in the cups when I take it off. Even though Old Navy swimsuits are like $7.50 per piece you’ll only end up getting $15 worth of ill-filling and tacky.

But I think the swimsuit I bought today might really be The One I’ve been searching for (ok, ok, I bought two. I meant two. I was gonna say two. I am admitting I have a problem here; can you not rub it in?).

I mean look how cute it is:

And I really think it’s actually working to my benefit on, too:

If I can just get everyone on at the pool to agree only to look at me with soft focus from this exact angle, I think it’s pretty perfect. I’m like almost kinda hot, right?

EW, OMG! Not from that angle! Unsee that, ok? It was after lunch and I forgot to suck in! Taking selfies is not that easy. GAH.

You know what, though, the more I think about it, Facebook, the more I start to suspect you’re not actually concerned about my buying addictions, the healthiness of my spending habits or even how well my swimwear fits. I mean it’s not like you were showing me self-help ads or budgeting websites… no, you specifically listed the very swimsuit I purchased like an hour ago in a regular store. As in, I walked into a boutique, bought a swimsuit and now it’s showing up in my Facebook ads?

How is it that you knew about that purchase, anyway? It’s because I googled the brand to find a link to send to my girlfriends, isn’t it? It’s like really sort of creepy and stalkerish that you are monitoring my web activity. That’s what you’re actually trying to tell me, isn’t it, Facebook. You’re just letting me know that you’re watching and that you know things, huh?


Well the joke’s on you, Facebook, because I was going to tell my husband about the new swimsuit(s) anyway.  It’s not like it really ever works when I pretend I’ve had them for like ever anyhow. He always knows.

So what else are you going to rat me out about, huh? How often I view my website stats? Pshaw, like it’s any secret I battle an inferiority complex regarding my readership in comparison to how much time and effort I put into this silly blog. That I sometimes read the Craig’s List personal ads when I’m feeling bored and indulgent? Um, who doesn’t? They’re so weird and hilarious. Anyone who’s a sucker for drama and crazy people has checked them out (and who is not a sucker for drama and crazy people?). What else you got on me, Facebook?

On the other hand, maybe that’s not the very most humiliating portion of my online activity. Now that I think about it, it’s possible I don’t want to know what else you’ve got on me. I’ll play nice. Tell me what you want to keep my browser history just between the two of us. I’m assuming you already have my bank account info… You just want me to know I owe you, don’t you? You want a favor from me in your back pocket until you need it, isn’t that right? When the time comes, you’ll let me know. Alright, Facebook, I don’t see as I have any other choice.




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