Saturday, September 26, 2009

In the Pank

So how is the pink laptop experiment (of being allowed to have a computer at home again: admittedly, a small one). Well, first, I seem to have maybe torn a rotator cuff. But I got a few repetitive motion injuries with the first blackberry, so it's probably just the 24-hour Torn Rotator Cuff that's going around.

First, I caught up on some of the YouTube I've been missing --- and promptly sent out the video to Looking Glass's fine rendition of "Brandy" to 1342 of my closest friends. And then I sent them the Red Hot Chili Peppers' version of it.

And then I found some porn.

And then I noticed that I can now see all the Facebook ads that weren't coming to the BlackBerry. They're obviously very targeted based on whatever's in your profile, and it makes me think Facebook has some odd ideas about the purchasing power of single women in their 40s. The one ad that is there every single time I log on is: "Meet Black Men" which promises "you can meet thousands of black singles in your area today at blackpeoplemeet."

The second most frequent ad is for "Warm Delights," which is kind of uncanny. I rarely buy processed food, but I have a pantry full of these (in case of emergency). I'm not even really that into chocolate -- but this is one of those rare guilty pleasures that actually looks and tastes EXACTLY like it does in the commercials, and really DOES take about a minute to make. (They now make "minis" to which I say... "amateurs.")

The next ad I get every time I log on is "Obama says get a degree" and that now would be a good time to finish my education. Uh, don't think either my bachelor's or master's alma maters has lost accredititation lately unless Facebook knows something I don't (which wouldn't surprise me).

I ran these Facebook suppositions by a few friends who also happened to be online, and they were being targeted as well. As a thirty-something mama, Facebook apparently thinks friend Bluebelle would like to go on a diet. And scrapbook.

Tasha is 20-something and they want her to improve her credit score and Meet Christian Singles. And go to Japan. Because she gets ads for Air Nippon. (Apparently, Facebook has become self-aware and knows I don't fly. And that I didn't even know what Air Nippon was.)

Facebook likes travel though, and wants pal Jupiter to go on a gay cruise.

Sandy is the same age I am -- married with dogs, but no kids -- she reports, her ads are for "homeless pets. Oh, and Red Sox & Patriots baby clothes. Apparently not clever enough for pet clothes with team logos."

When Dan asked what we WOULD like to see ads for on Facebook (assuming we had to see them), we reached astonishingly quick consensus on "bacon, booze, and Ambien." Three things we all love. Bluebelle added in Alan Rickman movies. I added in Sam Shepard. Not Sam Shepard movies necessarily, just Sam Shepard. "Add to cart. Proceed to checkout."

I'm just mad I wasn't the one who patented bacon vodka. Please. I was writing about Hop Sing bringing me bacon-tinis in the 90s.

I would also like to see an ad that markets the fact that these pink laptops get so hot I suspect they cause sterility. (Plus!)

I then asked everyone what degree of anonymity they preferred -- should this possibly, at some point, end up in print (spirit of full disclosure); I'd hate to inadvertently out someone's gay cruise (!) -- and surprisingly, everyone was fine.

They're all very comfortable with the world knowing what they think about booze and Ambien and Bacon. It wasn't like that when I first started writing for a living over 20 years ago. In ink. With only a legal pad and an abacus. Like an animal. Now everyone blogs and twitters and facebooks.

(I haven't even gotten around to writing about finding my book -- and by my book, I mean the one I wrote, as opposed to one I simply pre-owned -- on the shelf at Half Price Books on Thursday. It was never, ever sold in bookstores; they ASKED for it, which I understand is nice, and flattering, and possibly good business -- but I really only wanted it to go to people I KNEW. So the "half-price" didn't bother me, it was finding it in a STORE that creeped me out.)

So I'm still a dinosaur adjusting to the different world we live in now.

At the end of this discussion, Jupiter added, "feel free to use my name, but if I get to order someone, I wanna order Matt Damon and I don't care if I have to fly to Japan."

I'm still ordering Sam Shepard. And I'd maybe go as far as, oh, Versailles.

But for now, I just have to go join a credit union and find love, if
Facebook has its way.

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