Just married…times 25
Special to the Sunday Express
Evidently, I just got married. At least that’s Face-book’s take on the whole thing which only goes to show you, once again, that things are not always as they seem.
I haven’t had anyone take such an interest in my marital status since decades ago when I was out clubbing with my friends and a guy followed me around all night shouting “Hey, rainbow, come ‘ere! Are you with anyone?” every seven seconds. (The name, rainbow, because I made the fateful decision to throw on a rainbow shirt that night.)
Not coincidentally, that may also be the last time I wore anything with a rainbow on it although, these days, I could be wearing a matching necklace with a real pot of gold attached and it would be unlikely to merit that kind of attention.
When a high school friend contacted me via the public profile option, I decided to embrace the technology that is Facebook, but it may have bearhugged me back. Facebook is nothing, if not helpful, so where initially it simply suggested that my gal pal send me a message, the catch was that I had to become a member in order to retrieve the aforementioned message.
Having lost touch with her, my curiosity was more than a little piqued and I wanted to read that message. After creating a log-in, password, and half-day window for getting myself semi-savvy as to basic Facebook, I was in! Message and membership in hand, I began my social networking journey.
Though I launched into my own version of a tutorial program, I had no real idea how any of the functions worked. That didn’t stop me from soldiering on, deploying every function I could click near, to the point where I resembled a particularly energetic and adventurous lab monkey, pressing buttons, hitting “OK,” posting, friending, commenting my way all over the place.
Then came that fateful night when, after noting a Facebook prompt which asked me to add information about myself, I decided maybe it was time for some disclosure.
Thus far, I’d only posted my e-mail address and a profile picture which didn’t seem very social on my part.
If I was going to participate in this deal, the least I could do was make some sort of effort. I decided that, since my husband frowns upon me dating, perhaps, I should declare my marriedness proudly and publicly, thus I altered my status to “married.”
Providing this personal detail possessed no real ramifications as far as I could tell, and it took mere seconds to render me a member of the “everything that’s yours is mine” club. No one would probably notice or care anyway.
Boy, was I wrong because that’s when the real hilarity ensued and I immediately began receiving congratulatory emails and postings, not having even the slightest idea why.
After amassing several more, “hip, hip, hoorays,” I logged back onto Facebook to see what in the heck I had done because it was patently clear that I’d gone wrong somewhere. I knew what I thought I had done, but sometimes that twain doesn’t meet. What I saw was,
™ Diane is now married.
It had that cute little heart next to the announcement, along with “now” which, consequently, set everything into motion when it landed on my new friends’ pages.
Afterwards, though I wrote a disclaimer along the lines of, “I just updated to married, but I have been for years, at least that’s what we told our kids,” I felt as though I’d registered for the “Make a Wish” foundation without being sick.
By now, I think I’ve notified everyone I could get face(book) time with that I am just married – times 25 – but if I haven’t gotten to you yet: Please send the wedding gifts to me in care of The Union.
Diane Dean-Epps is a comedienne and writer. Contact her at http://www.dianedeanepps.com.
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