MySpace. My daughter is not too happy with me now that I have a "MySpace." Apparently, this is an unforgivable encroachment into her world -- a place no old woman (particularly a mother) has any business being. She bemoans the fact that when she tries to login, my name appears first and resentfully points out that it used to remember HER name first. Then of course, as if it's not bad enough that I'm on there, there's the embarrassing fact that I only have 16 friends at the moment. (Somehow her friends might find out about this and it will reflect badly on her.)
"Join a whore train!" she commands.
"That way you'll at least automatically get signed up with a lot of friends."
"But I don't want a bunch of weird strangers on my space - I'm trying to cultivate writing and reading friends."
Lots of eye rolling, head shaking, and dark muttering follow. Apparently, I'm just too lame for words.