Tag Archives: Facebook

And Another Thing…

My most recent podcast episode featured a rant about the things that drive me crazy on Facebook. Maybe they annoy you as well. But somehow, I failed to include the biggest thing that was currently grinding my gears at the time and was the inspiration for the episode to begin with. So, this post today is my addendum to that episode. And if you haven’t listened to it (or maybe you’re on of those people who haven’t listened to ANY of them, in which case, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? HMMM…???) please tune in because it’s funny and we’ve shortened each episode to fit into your busy days. So…that means NO excuses, people. Check it out. You will be so happy you did. 🙂


How could I forget to include the MOST annoying post that is BLOWING UP my Facebook feed? It was the reason for my most recent podcast episode and yet, I failed to include it. In that last episode, I went on a bit of a rant (one of my favorite things to do) about the many…MANY things that drive me crazy on Facebook. But I completely omitted one of the things that currently has me screaming at my newsfeed: the live cams. O.M.G. STOP POSTING THESE THINGS PEOPLE. JUST STOP. I don’t care about the giraffe who apparently has been on the brink of delivering the first baby giraffe in a hundred years. Well, I’m assuming it’s been that long because people are going absolutely BESERK over it.

Last week, a Facebook “friend” (I’m definitely redefining that word), was in a frenzy of panic thinking she had missed the momentous occasion. “Oh nooooo, did I miss it?” Her despair over that possibility made me wonder if she spends all day staring at her computer just waiting…waiting…waiting. And I could only imagine that she might have needed to use the bathroom and in those fleeting minutes, MISSED the giraffe birth. Thank God, someone immediately soothed her growing panic by assuring her that, No, no nothing had happened. She hadn’t missed anything. The mom giraffe is still laying in the corner of her giraffe pen. We’re all still waiting. THANK GOD.

In addition to the (supposedly) impending birth, I am seeing random pictures of giraffes now, too, because people are now super enamored with them. Really?? I’m beginning to suspect there might be something more sinister afoot; possibly some giraffe lobby which has begun to fear that the general public was SOMEHOW losing interest in giraffes and SOMETHING had to be done to correct that.

But, I’ve learned that giraffes are not the only phenomenon the Facebook population seems obsessed with. The other live cam barrage I’m experiencing is the Eagle Nest. I’m not sure if it’s a particular nest we’re all watching or just eagles in general. I know eagles are pretty cool but I’m eagled-out not only because of the endless, relentless, unremitting, continuous, and interminable (yes, I consulted a thesaurus for emphasis) live-cam posts on my newsfeed, but I also happen to be the recipient of nonstop photographs of eagles by an insane FB eagle-photographing aficionado. I want SO badly to comment: OMG we GET it…you like eagles.

I could go on, but I’ll spare you until a future podcast episode. You’ve been warned…


You can find the podcast two super easy ways:

Click on the Podcast App  on your Smartphone and type in the Search Bar: where are my glasses

 Or by going to our website:   http://www.wherearemyglassespodcast.com/      

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Join My Rant And Share The Love…Or Whatever

  I’ve been busy podcasting my little heart out and would LOVE for you to check it out! In a nutshell, each episode features various rants, raves, and laughs with a little true crime and reality television thrown in for fun. Perfect for listening to during your commute to work, running errands or to brighten the dreariness of household chores. Join me as I laugh at the absurdities of life. And PS: DONT FORGET TO SUBSCRIBE!! It’s free and acts as a tool to help us keep track of downloads. 

Episode 6 is up! I’m on a real rant in this episode: Hate your cable provider? Need tips on getting away with murder? And….why did FB ban me? Tune in to find out the answers. It’s super easy!!! Just click on the link below. You’ll be so happy you did. I promise 😊

Where Are My Glasses Podcast:  apple.co/2jrw5lk

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One Day At A Time…


Faith is taking the first step when you don’t see the whole staircase.  -Martin Luther King, Jr

This is a story about faith. It is a story about hope. And more than anything, it is a story about love; the deeply profound love of a mother for her child. Beverley Jean Blanc was born in Lousiville, Kentucky in 1971 and moved to Moline, IL as a young child. She lived the typical life of most kids, going to school and working as a teenager at the local Hy-Vee grocery store. After high school graduation, she had an exciting opportunity to travel to Europe to perform with her choir. Life was good for the young girl. Beverley attended Blackhawk College in Moline for two years when she married Adam. After the wedding, the newlyweds moved to Macomb, IL when he became a student at Western Illinois University.

During this time, she worked two jobs while he went to school. Upon learning that she was pregnant, what should have been a cause to rejoice, was met with the news that he wanted to leave her. They agreed to counseling in hopes of saving their marriage. And things did seem to look up. Bev continued working and taking care of the new life growing inside her. At twelve weeks, during a routine prenatal visit, she was told that her baby had stopped developing at around seven or eight weeks.  The child had died. Completely devasted with this news, Bev and her husband moved back to Moline where Adam had secured a job with the Rock Island, IL Police Department. Soon after his return from the Police Academy, Bev suffered a second miscarriage. Her third pregnancy would prove the charm, however, and, while frightened at the very real prospect of losing another child, she was also extremely happy that this pregnancy seemed to be a healthy one. After all, Bev deserved some happiness. Her euphoria was short-lived, though, when one morning, Adam simply announced that he didn’t love her anymore. Bev was five months pregnant.She found herself back at her parents’ house, regrouping. But not for long. Adam got the shock of his life, I’m sure, when Bev returned to their home, woke him out of a peaceful slumber and said, “You’re leaving me and your unborn child. Get your shit and get out.” Beverley Jean Blanc was a new person from that day forward.

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I’m Stuck In An AOL Time Warp And I Don’t Care!

YES!  I admit it…I still have an AOL email address.  I get.  I’m a loser.  Now, leave me alone and stop snickering when I’m asked for it from various stores.  I’m usually torn about giving it.  In fact, way back when, I used to think, “No way am I giving you my personal, private email address.”  But, then I realized that, by refusing that method of communication, I was telling them I’d prefer to talk to them on the phone.  I figured out fast enough that was NOT what I preferred.  Plus, when stores ask for my email, it’s so I can get coupons and discounts.  Print them out at home.  At my leisure.  I’ve never been one to clip coupons from the newspaper.  Not because I haven’t tried.  But, it became so much work and I never had them with me when I needed them.  And, I’m pretty sure the rare times I remembered to bring them,  I could hear every person in line behind me sighing as I’d open my handy coupon holder to extract necessary clipped savings, only to be told that the item I plucked from the shelf was not the right size or brand or, showing me the small print, that I needed to buy six of them to get the seventh half-off. 

What I do like, though, is extra savings to be had from stores like Kohl’s, JC Penney, Barnes and Noble, Harry and David, Famous Footwear, etc.  So, yes, when asked, I quietly whisper my lame AOL email address.  I whisper, not because I care about the looks of disdain from the cool high school/college aged cashiers, but because my kids are horrified that I would just blurt it out without any care to their emotional well-being.   I mean, there may be people they know lurking about.  They have begged me for years to get a g-mail account.  To get with the times.  It’s not the nineties anymore, for God’s sake.  “I’ll set it up for you, Mom.  It’s easy.  It doesn’t cost anything.  Can’t you ever think of anyone besides yourself?”   But, I feel like I everyone I know has my AOL address (and as far as I know, have not “unfriended” me on Facebook or shunned me in public).  It just seems like such a hassle to change it.  And, besides, I have a feeling that AOL will make a comeback.   And THEN who will be the cool one, hmmmm??  I can see their eyes rolling.


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Jeepers, Creepers…Or Why I Joined Facebook

I decided to join Facebook for two reasons.  First, I wanted to have a link to my third son as he left for college.  Funny, I didn’t feel the need for the older ones…  The decision to send him to the University of Iowa to study music was a difficult one.  We were between Iowa and Illinois and, to be honest, every time we’d make a “pros” and “cons” list for the schools, Illinois always came out as the obvious, prudent  choice.  But, we sensed Peter was leaning towards Iowa and when he would tell us that he thought Illinois was the one, we knew it was because he was thinking more of our finances, which, hello….should be considered…than his true desire.  It was only when my husband said, “Peter, if money was absolutely  no object, where would you like to go?”  (these words spilled out of his mouth before I had time to fly across the room and kill him),  that he said “Iowa”.  So, the decision was made.  Our two older sons had attended and have since graduated from the University of Iowa, so we were well-acquainted with Iowa City and the Hawkeyes.  Our car could drive there on its own (and sometimes, I think it did).  But, Pete was studying music, and you can’t just transfer Universities if you’re in a music school.  So, the decision seemed permanent.  Of course, with that kind of unease, I thought I needed a little reassurance that he was happy and thriving at his new school. Continue reading

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