HOW TOesday: Facebook Etiquette for Newbies (Guest Post by Mabel Buckley)

Hello there, readers. (I doubt there are any). Mabel here. You may have heard about me before on this blog, though I can promise you that any stories Allison has told about me destroying things, being rude, peeing on stuff, etc. are absolutely false and fabricated by a pathetic human in a sad attempt to get sympathy from the Internet. GET SOME REAL LIFE FRIENDS, ALLISON.

Anyhoo, you may or may not be aware that I recently joined Facebook. I’ve heard quite a bit about it lately, and was wondering WHETHER ANY OF MY FRIEND OR FAMILY KNEW WHAT IT WAS. Well, being the innovative cat that I am I joined, and it’s just as glorious as the commercials suggest.  The things that connect you humans connect us cats too.

I have noticed that there seems to be a little bit of confusion as to how to behave on Facebook.  I’m here to “shed” (HA, CAT JOKE) a little light on the subject with a short list of “Must-Dos.”

1. TO BE SURE THAT YOU GET YOUR POINT ACROSS, MAY I SUGGEST ALL CAPS?

It’s a proven fact that no one reads posts on Facebook if you’re writing in lowercase letters. Might as well call them invisible letters, because that’s how much people are going to look at them. Not at all.

 

See what I did there? As you’re scrolling through your newsfeed, you can’t help but notice that I (1) am bummed out that it’s Monday, and (2) tricked my roomies into thinking I was dying this morning. It’s undeniable that #2 is hilarious, so you’re welcome for posting. Just think, if I’d written in invisible letters, you never would have seen it. 

2. IF IT’S A MEDICAL, EMBARRASSING, OR JUST PLAIN GROSS CONFESSION, PLEASE POST IMMEDIATELY.

 

 

Some might be ashamed to admit that they are under the care of a psychiatrist, but I ain’t ashamed. I REPRESENT the problem of cat anxiety to all those I meet (not that I meet many … my anxiety really is crippling and I spend most of my time under the bed when my roomies have friends over).

You probably notice that I didn’t just post about my anxiety for the sake of posting, but I disguised it as a complaint about the rising price of healthcare. That’s a Facebook favorite these days. THANKS, OBAMA.

 

 

Also, if you’re confused about how your medical history may affect your everyday life, ASK YOUR FACEBOOK FRIENDS. You’ll be amazed at the wealth of information your FB friends can provide.

3. COMPLAINTS IN DISGUISE ALWAYS GET THE MOST FEEDBACK.

 

It’s no secret that I hate everybody. EVERYBODY. (Yes, you too, Evanshine). It’s really fun to publicize this repeatedly, though.

4. ESPECIALLY COMPLAINTS ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS.

 

 

See? I like to make a complaint with just enough detail that the one I am complaining about immediately recognizes it. (AHEM, ALLISON). Then, if your friends ask what’s up, as they should, you can explain in even MORE detail. Good things come to those who READ THE COMMENTS.

5. IF YOU ARE UNSURE OF CURRENT EVENTS, FACEBOOK > GOOGLE.

 

I don’t read the paper, or watch the news. Obviously. I am busy enough napping in the sun all day. So when I hear a little snippet of a current event, I just post on FB and usually someone can help me out. I trust my friends’ summaries of the news more than I trust the News itself.

6. YOU SIMPLY CANNOT GO WRONG WITH A SELFIE.

 

Even if it makes you look fat.

 

You're welcome, friends. Now leave me some love in the comments section (which Allison finally figured out how to use, so you should be able to actually leave a comment now), or email me at mabelthecatbuckley@gmail.com. (I am pretty bad about checking my email, though, so be warned).

HOW TOesday: Alienate Your Daughter

Here I am again, back to give you more useful insights into life. If you're anything like my mom, you are printing off these HOW TOesday posts and storing them in a folder marked "Important" or "Useful Tips." Thanks for that.

Anyway, tonight as friends were arriving to watch a double-header of the Bachelorette, we noticed someone has been pranking me on my own anniversary typewriter:

Say what?

You may notice a "mom was here!" in the bottom corner of the page. Naturally, my top suspect at first was my mom. I have since confirmed, however, that the culprit was my father, a full-grown man and my own flesh and blood.

So today I am filing paperwork to legally emancipate myself from my father, a la Drew Barrymore. Accordingly, I am up for adoption. Applicants with a spare trust fund or vacation homes in Maine, Park City, or the South of France will be preferred. You can apply by becoming an f-ing follower of my blog! (I still only have two...which seems impossible given the useful and interesting content.)

HOW TOesday on Wendesday: Granny Time

You must have thought I died, because I missed my HOW TOesday post yesterday for the first time in weeks. Have no fear, I am alive. Alive with excitement over this lesson I am about to give you on how to make granny squares.

What is a granny square, you ask? Well, it looks a little something like this:

 

 

A thing of beauty, no? Well, sadly, I do not actually know how to make them ... yet. But I will in 100 days, because I am starting my friend Anna's 100 Days of Granny challenge.  She is a professional crochet instructor (in addition to her other full-time jobs of lawyering and crafting), so you'll definitely learn a thing or two.  If you want to follow along in the challenge, just go right here: http://100daysofgranny.blogspot.com/.

 

This challenge should last you through the end of the summer, when you will obviously get cold and need a nice warm blanket made of granny squares to get you through the winter.  So join. It's free and will make you smarter, funnier, and altogether better to be around.

Plus, you can crochet while you watch the Bachelorette (WHICH PREMIERES NEXT WEEK!)

And I leave you with this adorable photo of Anna's real life granny:

 all photos stolen without permission from Anna's facebook page.

HOW TOesday: Have a Blissful Marriage for Many Years

Because we're coming up on our one-year anniversary in a couple of weeks, it's clear that Evan and I have really figured out the secret to a strong marriage. And because you've been such good, loyal readers lately, I've decided to start sharing these secrets with you so that you, too, can live a perfect, happy life.

Step One: Help each other, even with chores that aren't obviously yours.

In other words, wives don't have to do all the wife chores and husbands don't have to do all the husband chores. For example, just this past weekend our dear Evanshine did several loads of laundry because he's highly evolved and I did some yard work because I am too. Now, let's not get crazy and imagine me mowing the lawn or sawing up fallen tree trucks (for the record, neither one of us does that), but I did just plant an entire vegetable garden (or three tomato plants and four tiny okras) and all of the flower pots on our front AND back porches. Now that I type that out, I'm not so sure that planting flowers is a "husband chore," but you get the drift. I was working the land and that's a man thing.

Step Two: Don't kill each other when you screw up your nontraditional chores.

As I was laying around and watching Grey's Anatomy being helpful around the house this Sunday afternoon, Evan appeared in front of me.

"Allie, over by the driveway was looking really bad. I pulled a bunch of weeds over there. Go check it out."

Poor Evan is just emerging from a two-week-long stiff-neck situation, so being able to pull weeds was a big deal. I walked around to the flowerbed he was talking about, fully prepared to be amazed by his yard work prowess. There were quite a few weeds and an empty spot beside the wire support that I use to hold up my peonies every year.

"Where are my peonies?"

"Uhh... Those weeds?"

"Not weeds. Peonies."

"No, those were weeds. They're in the trash."

And there they were, wilting away on top of an empty case of Diet Mountain Dew, may they rest in peace.

Instead of murdering Evan, like I was fully entitled to do, I let him off the hook with just a promise to find me a new peony plant for the side of the house. And that is why we are going to live happily ever after.

HOW TOesday: Use the Find My Phone App to its Fullest Potential

Welcome back, everyone, to HOW TOesday. What's that? You thought I would forget that I had started a Regular Column and not post this week? Worry not. I have decided to give up my free time and any semblance of a social life to bring you another educational installment. 

I must admit, though, that I almost passed this week up. Not out of laziness, but because I didn't do one fun or creative thing this entire week. I guess I could have written "HOW TOesday: Wash Every Item of Clothing in Your House Because Otherwise You and Your Husband Will be Wearing College T-Shirts and Gym Shorts to Work Next Week" (just kidding - those were dirty too) or "HOW TOesday: Fill Up Your Husband's Entire Extended Cab With Boxes of Dusty Junk From Your Basement to Take to Goodwill So You Can Actually Reach the Water Heater," but somehow I just didn't think that would get the tons of readers my posts usually attract.

So, here we are at HOW TOesday: Use the Find My Phone App to its Fullest Potential. Without further ado, here it is:

It was Friday night, and we had just gotten home from Drake's, Evan's and my favorite restaurant because it serves both sushi and cheeseburgers. (Guess which is my favorite food and which is Evan's?)  On my way to my bedroom to put on my sweatpants and prepare for a marathon evening of TV watching and eating Thin Mints from the deep freeze, I reached for my phone so I could check Facebook while I changed clothes. 

… Which brings us to Step 1: Try not to be jealous of the wild and crazy lives of your favorite instructional bloggers. Hard, I know.

But, HORROR OF ALL HORRORS! I could not find my phone! It was nowhere to be found. Naturally, I started to freak out. All my contacts! My original download of the now-discontinued Flappy Bird! My Notes section which stores every single password I've ever used! (I know, I know.)

Step 2: Be sure that you've already installed the Find My Phone app on your iPad. 

Don't worry, I had. So I opened that mo fo up and hit "locate." My heart stopped three times while it was locating. Finally, a result: across a major street from Drake's, in what appeared to be a neighborhood! Immediately I was furious. 

"[EDITED]!! My phone's been stolen!!!!!" 

"Let me see," said the ever-calm Evanshine. He took a look at the iPad. "That's weird that it's right across the street from Drake's. I bet it's still at Drake's." 

I activated LOST mode and entered Evan's phone number as my contact.

Step 3: Remain calm.

"NO WAY, YOU IDIOT, GPS IS EXTREMELY ACCURATE. What century are you living in? You're just jealous your Samsung Whatever doesn't have a find my phone app. It's so obvious, it's pathetic. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? My phone has been STOLEN! Do you know how much it costs to replace an iPhone without renewing your contract? THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS, EVAN. THOUSANDS. I hope you're getting a promotion soon." Have I mentioned that I've been known to overreact and mis-direct my anger?

"Well," said Evan, "why don't you call Drake's? Just see if they have it?"

"THEY DON'T."

"Or call the police?"

"UGH. I don't want to call the police. Would you call Drake's for me?"

Surprisingly, he agreed. And, as I expected, the hostess at Drake's told him that they did not have my phone.

"I KNEW IT. It's obviously been stolen. Why, random house near Drake's, why did you have to steal my phone????" I checked the iPad again. Still at that same house. I pulled up the map view, figured out the house number, and looked up the criminal on the Property Valuation Administrator's website. See, there are perks to being a real estate attorney! It was owned by someone by the name of Eunice. (Editor's note: I have changed the real criminal's old lady name to Eunice for the purpose of avoiding being sued for slander.) 

"Eunice. WHAT A BITCH!" 

Somehow, I heard Evan's quiet voice over my wails. "Why don't you call the police?"

"Will you call for me?"

"No." [We are getting a divorce. Evan has clearly forgotten our marriage vows.] "Here's my phone." And like a coward, he left the room.

I figured out how to dial Evan's primitive cell phone and dialed the non-emergency police number. The lady who answered was completely unimpressed by my detective skills ("Hi, I'd like to report a stolen phone, but I know where it is from my Find My Phone App.") and told me an officer would call me to take my report. I prepared myself for his call and hit refresh on my iPad. Still at Eunice's house.

After a literal eternity, my phone rang. It was Officer Smith. (Editor's Note: Again, I have changed the name of this poor detective for privacy purposes.) I told him my sad story, and he informed me that, while he was "not old," he wasn't very young either, and was not sure how accurate my app was. Therefore, he could not just go to Eunice's house and ask her to give my phone back because she'd probably hide it anyway. I told him I understood, he apologized for my misfortunes, and told me to try to have a good weekend anyway. 

I scoffed at Officer Smith's obvious ignorance of technology. GPS not accurate, ha! I hit refresh on the iPad and used it to text Courtney about my misfortunes. Do you think I have to report this to work and then they are going to read through all my emails to make sure I haven't released any protected information about clients even if I erase my phone from afar??? I asked. She did not have an answer for me, but told her husband about my troubles. He called Evan and suggested that they go to Eunice's house and get my phone back for me. They were looking Eunice up on Facebook to assess how dangerous she might be (Answer: Not Very) when Evan's phone rang.

It was a security guard from Drake's. He had my phone. Oh. 

4. Recognize that GPS is not always completely accurate.

I called off the militia and had just grabbed my car keys to go get my phone when Evan's phone rang again. This time, it was my boy, Officer Smith.

"Hi, ma'am, it's Officer Smith again. I just wanted to let you know that I called your cell phone and left a mean message. I told them to do the right thing and they will avoid any trouble. So hopefully they'll hear that and just bring it back." 

"Oh, thanks! Actually, I JUST got a call! Someone found my phone!"

I didn't have the heart to tell Officer Smith that that someone was the security guard at Drake's, where I left my phone. Oops. 

"I guess your message worked!"

5. Retrace your steps and find your phone. 

Sigh. So, with my tail between my legs, I went to Drake's and picked up my phone from a very cheerful security guard. I came home to Evan, who only said "I told you so" once or twice, and finally put on my sweatpants and turned on the TV. Don't worry, because I live such a wild and crazy life, it was still only about 9:30 after all of this action went down, so I had plenty of time for several episodes of 19 Kids and Counting before bedtime. Success!

(Editor's Final Note: Mom, if you're reading, don't worry. I wasn't really this mean to Evan, and we aren't really getting a divorce. It's called creative writing, and I majored in it in college and use it every day in my career, if you remember. Love ya!)

HOW TOesday: Birdy-Themed Sip & See

If you haven't been counting along at home, this is my forty-first post. The traditional gift to readers in honor of the forty-first post is to introduce a Regular Column. Well, just call me Ann Landers, because this is HOW TOesday. Punny, I know. This week? A lesson on how to create the most perfect, birdy-themed Sip and See in the history of the world. It's okay for me to brag because I was only a co-host of this marvelous shower, so all the great ideas and decorations came from my co-hosts, and all the mistakes (including forgetting the invitation that we intended to frame at home) came from me. Here we go!

Now, just call me Prissy, because I don't know nothin' bout birthin' no babies. So the first step is to pick friends upon whom you can rely to have some cute ones. Seven ago, I picked out my friend Meghan for this very reason. You may remember Meghan from giving birth to my favorite three-and-a-half-year-old, Hadley. Well, she has been at it again, this time naming the little one …

In this case, Meghan had already birthed her baby, so we threw a "sip and see" where we sipped champagne and saw the baby. I highly recommend this option, because even the mommy got to have some champagne.

Step Two: If you find yourself surrounded by friends giving birth, may I suggest investing in some Martha Stewart paper punching tools. I found the one used to make the above banner at Michael's and used a 50% off coupon, so I truly couldn't afford not to buy it. That's what I told Evan, anyway. I don't think he was listening.

Step Three: Pick a theme and stick to it. We chose to put a bird on it, because birdies are adorable. 

Please note the bird cages and birdies holding up the tassel banner. I'm sure all of our guests immediately recognized the theme for the party. If you want to have a tassel banner without spending enough money on etsy to buy your own baby on the black market, consider this tutorial that I found on Pinterest. I guarantee that the process is both easy and really fun for cats to watch/assist.

Step Four: Whip up some delicious food and drink, but only if everything on the menu is the same color. Try not to stress out too much when the cute paper straws you find do not match the shade of the ribbons you use to tie around the mason jar cups, and when the yellow of the lemonade mix does not precisely match the yellow paper flags you tape on the straws. [Courtney!] Life will probably go on.

photo credit: Anna "Girard" Liebowitz

I really wish I could take credit for these cookies. It blows my mind that Anna's friend made these by hand. Tune in next HOW TOesday to read Anna's guest post on how to find a friend with such skills.

See instructions for this tasty treat below, found on Pinterest in the dreaded photo with no instructions. Keep in mind that Rice Krispie Treats are incredibly lazy when they get to room temperature and will not necessarily stand up straight for the entire party. But they do look cute for a quick photo op.

Please take a moment to appreciate the fact that my co-host Courtney (co-winner of the inaugural Queen's Cup, in case you forgot) was able to function given the varying shades of pink and yellow seen above. We weren't sure that she'd come out alive.

Finally, Step Five: Sip your champagne and see that precious baby!

photo credit: Anna "Girard" Liebowitz

 

These two brides-babies (Babies of my bridesmaids? Is that a thing?) were born three days apart. I like to believe that my wedding inspired their birth. That's Max Jr. on the left and Ava on the right. As you can see by Max trying to play coy, they are already madly in love and all the readers of my blog will be invited to their wedding sometime in 2039. Right, Meghan? It's okay, I think there are only about 5.

Well, now that I write this post and share all these pictures, I am starting to think the point of this post was not, in fact, to teach you how to do anything but to show off these pretty pictures. Thanks for sticking with me. In exchange for your attention, I'd like to share my best tips for Rice Krispies on a Stick:

First, make a DOUBLE BATCH of Rice Krispies. I only made a single batch and ended up with odd-shaped rectangles that did not hold up to sitting on display. You can choose to add a few drops of red food coloring to the marshmallow mix as you heat it up if you'd like to double up on your pink. I was terrified that Courtney would murder me if I brought too many different shades to the party, plus Evan lost all of our food coloring after he insisted on dying our chili con queso green at his family's St. Patrick's Day party, so I restrained myself.

I'm sure you know how to make Rice Krispies, but in case you're like me and your mother would only make the healthy version with peanut butter instead of marshmallows when you were little, here's the quick how-to:

Gather your ingredients/supplies: 

8 T butter

20 oz mini-marshmallows

2 t vanilla

12 C rice krispies

1 package melting candy (I got it at Michael's)

1 package cake ball sticks

1 spool tiny pink ribbon

Heat the butter and marshmallows over low heat in a large saucepan. Keep your phone nearby so you can browse Facebook while the stuff melts, because it takes forever. Remove from heat, add vanilla, and then stir in the cereal. Press into a greased 9x13 baking pan. This will seem very full, but that's a good thing. Also a good thing are straight edges, so if you have some kind of boxy baking pan, use that instead of one with curvy edges. Let your treats cool.

This is where it gets tricky. NOT. (Don't see a lot of "NOT" these days, do you?) Cut the treats into squares - about as wide as the pan is deep. Stick a cake stick into each. Melt the candy, dip each treat in and set it on wax paper to cool. After they're cool, tie a tiny bow on each stick, line them up on a cute platter, and sit back and let people think this process was really hard.

I'll be back next HOW TOesday with tips on something new. Stay tuned.