Last night I read my Facebook feed.
I started out looking for some photo I wanted, and I found myself just scrolling through, getting the general feel of the things that I have posted.
I have a confession. That's not me.
I posted those things, and I stand by them. But they're so... partial and so clean. I post art that I love, articles that inspire me, and cute pictures of my kids.
There aren't any pictures of my messy basement. There aren't any dirty dishes there, and there are no software developers demanding to know the meaning of my requirement. There are no bills in there, and no 401K. There are no stiff silences there, following some disagreement over the distribution of housework. There are no plans for the future, no poems or barfing kids.
What would an alien make of my Facebook profile?
She would probably see it for what it is.
A collection of pretty things- the lining of a crow's nest. A glitter of truth interlaced with all the sparkly things I can find.