Everyone told me I needed to join Facebook to keep up with family members who lived far away and didn’t know what a letter was. I could make new friends who had the same interests as I. It would also help me gain exposure as a writer, so people would recognize my name and buy my books. Best of all, they said, it was fun. That last word was all I needed. “Sign me up!” I shouted, logging onto the Facebook site.At first, I accepted friendship requests from every Mabel, Butch, and Greta who breezed onto my profile and offered me a cyber dark chocolate. Facebook must have known the kinds of people I like to associate with, because they posted suggestions of ones I might want to befriend, complete with a mug shot of each.How sweet of them to help me gain more friends, I thought. I spent many merry moments on their site. 
Until they put me in jail.
Yep. Seems I had requested friendship of too many people who reported that they didn’t recognize my mug. Facebook sent me a not-so-merry message, forbidding me for seven days from making new friends in the FB playground. I think it was supposed to make me cry, and repent of my too-friendly ways.
What Facebook didn’t know was that I came out of the womb with business cards in my wee hand, introducing myself to every nurse, doctor, and aide in the hospital. I planned birthday parties for all the newborns in the nursery, and volunteered to be the clown. I came back six weeks later to teach my first How to Make Friends and Influence Parents class.
So, FB jail didn’t scare me. I can make friends anywhere.
