<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608</id><updated>2011-10-05T10:29:04.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Don't Friend Me</title><subtitle type='html'>When social networking connects you to people you'd just as soon never see again. Ever.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-2836657772024142895</id><published>2010-04-05T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T09:12:46.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't repeal, Reload</title><content type='html'>Person I knew in High school:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I wanted to hear your crazy political views, I would run over to Fox News and the Tea Baggers. Dude. Facebook is for SOCIAL interaction. Consider yourself unfriended.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-2836657772024142895?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/2836657772024142895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2010/04/person-i-knew-in-high-school-if-i.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/2836657772024142895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/2836657772024142895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2010/04/person-i-knew-in-high-school-if-i.html' title='Don&apos;t repeal, Reload'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-154318370603071490</id><published>2010-03-21T17:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T17:30:22.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bad Seed</title><content type='html'>I receive this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OMG!!! I have looked for you forever!!! Do you remember me from Smalltown? We were super good buddies when we were 9!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You moved away when you were nine and I celebrated.  You were a passive aggresive nightmare who made my life freaking miserable.  I will not feed your delusions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-154318370603071490?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/154318370603071490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2010/03/bad-seed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/154318370603071490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/154318370603071490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2010/03/bad-seed.html' title='The Bad Seed'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-8377288190720854790</id><published>2010-03-07T21:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T21:05:07.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn you, Snack Stealer!</title><content type='html'>My only memory of you was in Primary school and you got in to trouble for sneaking in to the cloak room and eating everyones lunches. I knew I hated you when I discovered my KitKat missing. Please stop with your friend requests, 13 times and you still don't get the hint?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-8377288190720854790?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/8377288190720854790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2010/03/damn-you-snack-stealer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/8377288190720854790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/8377288190720854790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2010/03/damn-you-snack-stealer.html' title='Damn you, Snack Stealer!'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-6927998785861156037</id><published>2009-11-30T11:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T11:55:17.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hallelujah!</title><content type='html'>You were a Bible thumper in high school and you're still a Bible thumper now. Please don't friend me. I love my life of sin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-6927998785861156037?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/6927998785861156037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/11/hallelujah.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/6927998785861156037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/6927998785861156037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/11/hallelujah.html' title='Hallelujah!'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-1897568911196093869</id><published>2009-11-23T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T18:57:07.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not BFF</title><content type='html'>I haven't seen or spoken to you in 10 years ever since I came to America. I'm sure that when we were kids, we used to be friends...but I truly don't remember who you are. Please don't friend me, because I don't remember you anymore. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-1897568911196093869?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/1897568911196093869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-bff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1897568911196093869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1897568911196093869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-bff.html' title='Not BFF'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-4964582473211355541</id><published>2009-09-28T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T19:24:00.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Witness Protection Program?</title><content type='html'>What happens when you are 'friended' by people that are potentially still friends with your ex? An ex whom you had a particularly messy break up with?  It's quite an uncomfortable situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accepting them as a friend on the exception that they're not close with the ex is a little crazy.  Not accepting them to ensure distance from the ex is selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-4964582473211355541?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/4964582473211355541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/09/witness-protection-program.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/4964582473211355541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/4964582473211355541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/09/witness-protection-program.html' title='Witness Protection Program?'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-3150197240776803061</id><published>2009-09-22T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T08:04:50.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So family reunions are quiet?</title><content type='html'>My facebook friend request happens to be the son of a lady my uncle had an affair with! His two youngest brothers are my uncle's kids and I have no effin clue if he knows or not. Talk about awkward when he asks when can we meet up to catch up. How about NEVER!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-3150197240776803061?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/3150197240776803061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-family-reunions-are-quiet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/3150197240776803061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/3150197240776803061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-family-reunions-are-quiet.html' title='So family reunions are quiet?'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-390332752763725600</id><published>2009-09-14T12:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:14:59.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pants on Fire</title><content type='html'>We were actually quite close for a while.  You did some lovely things for me: you moved in when my boyfriend moved out, making it possible for me to stay in my house, which I wouldn't have been able to afford to keep renting on my own.  You gave me rides to school.  You listened when I needed to talk.  In return I listened to you, too; I got you a job at my workplace when you needed one; I helped you study.  It was a good friendship.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Until... I started to discover the lies.  That guy you said you were dating?  He barely knew you.  That bill payment you said you would drop off for me?  Never made it to the bank.  Those welfare cheques you were receiving?  Obtained fraudulently.  Your parents were supporting you, yet you still felt entitled to more.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You lied to professors to get better grades.  You lied to our fellow volunteers and left our organization in the lurch.  You lied to my other friends about my habits and past.  You were charming, pretty, kind and articulate, and so enough people believed you, enough of the time.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When I cut you out of my life, I told you exactly why I was doing so.  I couldn't understand the purpose of these lies.  Some of them were to gain money or prestige, but so many of them were about nothing at all.  You'd lie about what you had for breakfast or what you saw on television the night before.  I didn't know you, and I couldn't trust you.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A decade later, you friended me, and I have no idea why.  And if you tried to tell me, I wouldn't believe you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-390332752763725600?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/390332752763725600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/09/pants-on-fire.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/390332752763725600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/390332752763725600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/09/pants-on-fire.html' title='Pants on Fire'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-8304173590799929920</id><published>2009-08-21T04:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T04:47:08.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell Your story</title><content type='html'>Do you have a story of an awkward social network?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead, share. pleasedontfriendme@gmail.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Submission are, as always, confidential&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-8304173590799929920?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/8304173590799929920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/08/tell-your-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/8304173590799929920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/8304173590799929920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/08/tell-your-story.html' title='Tell Your story'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-2662879158248825781</id><published>2009-08-11T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T10:49:24.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoever has the most meaningless friends when they die - WINS!</title><content type='html'>The majority of my extended family lives in another state, so although we're friendly, we're not exactly close.  When a cousin sent a Friend Request, I explained that although I'm not a member of Facebook I'd love to hear how he's doing.  I then wrote a couple of paragraphs detailing some interesting things I'd been doing and asked some leading questions to prime the pump for a decent reply.  I never heard back from him.  When I did finally open an account I noticed that he had over nine hundred friends.  Evidently this was less about catching up in any meaningful way than in stuffing the ballot box for some sort of popularity contest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-2662879158248825781?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/2662879158248825781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/08/whoever-has-most-meaningless-friends.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/2662879158248825781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/2662879158248825781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/08/whoever-has-most-meaningless-friends.html' title='Whoever has the most meaningless friends when they die - WINS!'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-1921146001612121140</id><published>2009-08-03T05:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T05:47:00.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I will not be ignored, Dan</title><content type='html'>This was sent to me by the woman who was partially responsible for the end of my first marriage because well.... she slept with my ex.  I appreciate the good wishes but seriously what other woman does this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;Subject: Hello&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to extend my congratulations for the birth of your new baby "Betty". I bet "Tina" is excited to have a little sister!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you, "Mike" and family are doing well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-That Chick&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-1921146001612121140?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/1921146001612121140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-will-not-be-ignored-dan.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1921146001612121140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1921146001612121140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-will-not-be-ignored-dan.html' title='I will not be ignored, Dan'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-2200501393820592431</id><published>2009-07-27T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T08:15:37.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Try new batteries</title><content type='html'>Apparently, 60% of my friends from high school are gay - which I am totally fine with, but I had no idea. NO IDEA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My gaydar is completely out of whack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-2200501393820592431?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/2200501393820592431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/try-new-batteries.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/2200501393820592431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/2200501393820592431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/try-new-batteries.html' title='Try new batteries'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-5040332326680583809</id><published>2009-07-23T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T08:23:00.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>His name isn't Peter Pan, is it?</title><content type='html'>I was seeing this guy with whom I had reconnected via Facebook.  We had dated previously a couple of years before and had started seeing each other again.  Or so I thought.  We had gotten together a few times, chatted, emailed and all that.  I thought everything was going well.  Until out of the blue all contact stopped.  Same as the time before.  After two weeks of silence, I finally got an email from him, saying he met someone else online and did not feel comfortable seeing me anymore. And he was sorry for the lack of communication and should have been more forward with me. WTF???  I was very upset and I did not respond right away.  I was too angy and figured he could wait a bit since he made me wait two weeks.  After about a week I noted that he had unfriended me on Facebook. How junior high can you get? Did I mention that we are both mid-30s?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-5040332326680583809?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/5040332326680583809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/his-name-isnt-peter-pan-is-it.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/5040332326680583809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/5040332326680583809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/his-name-isnt-peter-pan-is-it.html' title='His name isn&apos;t Peter Pan, is it?'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-394169361422409769</id><published>2009-07-20T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T19:41:37.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's outside your window right now</title><content type='html'>Growing up there was a kid in my neighborhood who was more than a little strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He apparently had a crush on me, but I was really too stupid and young to understand.  He began by 'doorbell ditching' a mixed tape with that I (remember - too stupid and young) thought was unrelated to the doorbell ring and threw away.  Now, that's not strange, but then it progressively got worse as he invited me to a pool party wherein I was unknowingly the only guest.  He proceeded to bring me to his room to show me his collection of My Little Pony dolls, requesting that we hold one together.  I left quickly, not knowing what to make of him.  He then spread a rumor that we had been intimate that day (whatever a child's notion of that is..) - I was upset and decided to stop being kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days later he watched with his eerie wide eyed stare as I played basketball and interrupted to dare me to a play fight. This was a bit scary because I'd never been in a fight, I was a girl and he was a boy and larger than me. I firmly refused and turned to go home. He immediately swung me around and I got a slap square in the face.  After a second to recover I slapped him back and left in a fury.  Later the same day there was a ring at the doorbell and one of my parents (can't remember) answered. There was the boy, weeping and burbling, with his grandfather looking for answers. I don't remember being questioned or punished for the incident.  Though it was easy to see the boy was odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not want cross paths with him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately this was impossible as we walked to the same grade school.  Day after day he would follow me home, wordlessly throwing little rocks at my heals and pausing occasionally to pick up more from the road.  It stung, but I was very hard-headed and refused to speak to him, to show any reaction.  One afternoon there was one particular rock that stung more than usual.  I crouched quickly and grabbed my ankle.  There on my white sock was a dot of red.  That was it.  I was finished with him.&lt;br /&gt;I rushed toward him and linked my cupped hands with his.  His reserves of little pebbles jabbed us both and I squeezed as hard as I could.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't recall if I'd said anything to him, but I know my sentiment was clear. &lt;br /&gt; "Please stop." He whispered,"You're hurting me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no more rock-throwing. We never spoke or interacted again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast-forward twenty years.  He finds me on Myspace.  He finds me on Facebook.  Sends me messages, wanting to 'catch up' and see 'what I'm doing these days.'  Catch up?!  On what?!  Him being completely bizarre and me avoiding him as much as possible?  What sort of made-up friendship does he think we had?  Of the handful of encounters we had, all were brief and creepy.&lt;br /&gt; Of course, these requests have been deleted without an answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-394169361422409769?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/394169361422409769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/hes-outside-your-window-right-now.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/394169361422409769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/394169361422409769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/hes-outside-your-window-right-now.html' title='He&apos;s outside your window right now'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-6343685681657548834</id><published>2009-07-17T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T08:13:50.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Best served Cold</title><content type='html'>We knew each other in high school.  We were both nice middle class girls.  You're probably a millionaire, as you are the head of a thriving money management firm.  I live in a nice little suburban ranch home with a low paying public service job, but guess what!!  I control 1.5 million dollars of family assets that we keep a deep dark secret.  All of my family members live quiet, modest lives and smile when we check our bank balances and our five safe deposit boxes.  I pretend that I live paycheck to paycheck like all of my friends do.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I sent you a friend invite and you have not replied.  You friended the girl who turned on me like a vicious animal when I tried to maintain a friendship after high school, saying she had to move on.   No problem.  I was considering putting my money with your firm, but you can forget that now.  I am an educated person and can probably do just as well on my own with the family money--so far, so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-6343685681657548834?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/6343685681657548834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/best-served-cold.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/6343685681657548834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/6343685681657548834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/best-served-cold.html' title='Best served Cold'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-5651065255933807124</id><published>2009-07-12T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T18:17:00.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You know that I know that you know what you said</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I belonged to a message board for moms for over 4 years and of course we're all friends on Facebook as well. It's a small private group and really close. Unfortunately, the friendships weren't strong enough to last during the past election. Conversations got really heated at times and I guess that made people a little (understatement) touchy. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;During a conversation that was actually mild, so mild I can't even remember it...I apparently upset one of my friends. In turn she "unfriended" me on Facebook. I could tell from her message board posts that I had upset her and immediately sent a private message to apologize for whatever I had said that upset her. To which she informed me that I had been "unfriended" on Facebook. This all occurred in the span of just a few minutes.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;I really was hurt. Like I mentioned we were close (I thought) and whatever I had said to upset her truly was mild, forgettable and obviously misunderstood. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;This friend had decided she overreacted within an hour or so and sent a friend request to which I ignored. She then began sending me many, many apologetic messages begging me to "take her back". I finally relented a couple days later. Some time after that the overall group had just gotten too negative with the election and I stopped visiting there, choosing to keep up with everyone on Facebook instead.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;The total irony of this all is in the past several months since this occurred she had a birthday, a high risk pregnancy, preterm and NICU baby for 6 weeks and another child who has had illnesses and accomplishments. Throughout this time I've sent her messages on Facebook, comments, cards in the mail all acknowledging whatever she was going through...and she has never once responded to any of it. I am so tempted to "unfriend" this friend.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-5651065255933807124?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/5651065255933807124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-know-that-i-know-that-you-know-what.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/5651065255933807124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/5651065255933807124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-know-that-i-know-that-you-know-what.html' title='You know that I know that you know what you said'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-8071220210283130883</id><published>2009-07-06T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T10:12:50.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Divorce = Lets hang out together and be friends</title><content type='html'>For two years I was married to a man I grew to despise. In our dysfunctional relationship we exchanged "f*ck you" much more often than "love you". When I filed for divorce, he refused to sign the papers, insisting that I was HIS WIFE and he didn't have to let me go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he finally realized that the court was not going to force me to stay married to him, he signed the papers with the threat that I'd better not marry anyone else, or he would kill the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four years later, he finds me on Facebook and sends me a friend request. When I ignored it, he sent another one, asking me why we can't be friends. I ignored that one too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess some people just don't get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-8071220210283130883?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/8071220210283130883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/divorce-i-really-really-love-you.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/8071220210283130883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/8071220210283130883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/divorce-i-really-really-love-you.html' title='Divorce = Lets hang out together and be friends'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-7325522121915233746</id><published>2009-07-02T10:29:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T10:29:52.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe she meant it in an affectionate way?</title><content type='html'>My buddy's crazy bitch ex tries to add me every two weeks.  After the 3rd time I said "Can you please stop sending me requests?  You left my best friend and 3 of your children to live with your internet lover and have never visited them nor paid child support.  Before this you called me a bitch whore for suggesting you and XXX might want to attempt therapy and told me you never wanted to see my ugly face again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The message she sent back was more of the same... but she still tries to add me as a friend every two weeks LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-7325522121915233746?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/7325522121915233746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/maybe-she-meant-it-in-affectionate-way.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/7325522121915233746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/7325522121915233746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/07/maybe-she-meant-it-in-affectionate-way.html' title='Maybe she meant it in an affectionate way?'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-1454466917704216737</id><published>2009-06-30T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T20:46:18.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends don't let friends dinner ditch</title><content type='html'>So you know how facebook has that "See people from your high school option"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I was asked to add a guy that I DO remember from High school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Because I turned him in for running out on his bill at the local Friendly's restaurant.  I not only gave the waitress and manager his name, but the information that he was the son of the police chief in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine why on earth he wants to add me as a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-1454466917704216737?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/1454466917704216737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/06/friends-dont-let-friends-dinner-ditch.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1454466917704216737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1454466917704216737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/06/friends-dont-let-friends-dinner-ditch.html' title='Friends don&apos;t let friends dinner ditch'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-402387739563615608.post-1738078755402941890</id><published>2009-06-29T16:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T16:40:58.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That must of been ALOT of eye makeup...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It's a response I got to a friend request on Facebook:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you for the add, however I am at this time in my life, going to&lt;br /&gt;decline as gracefully as possible. I do not think that we were ever&lt;br /&gt;actually friends and I do recall a very uncomfortable situation at&lt;br /&gt;Nxxx' s funeral in which you humiliated me in front of  people that I&lt;br /&gt;cared dearly for. Bygones, yes, however it was a painful moment that&lt;br /&gt;you were happy to facilitate.  My life is authentic and toxic free, to&lt;br /&gt;pursue a friendship on a public forum such as FB would be false and&lt;br /&gt;certainly not fair to both of us.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you peace and a happy life. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to know the humiliating thing I did?  We were looking at pictures&lt;br /&gt;and she said "Oh, look at how much eye make up I used to wear."  and I&lt;br /&gt;said "Oh, what do you mean used to?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was in, get ready, 1993.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew!  I don't think she's quite as evolved as she thinks she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/402387739563615608-1738078755402941890?l=pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/feeds/1738078755402941890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/06/that-must-of-been-alot-of-eye-makeup.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1738078755402941890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/402387739563615608/posts/default/1738078755402941890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pleasedontfriendme.blogspot.com/2009/06/that-must-of-been-alot-of-eye-makeup.html' title='That must of been ALOT of eye makeup...'/><author><name>Dawn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF39GsBIfeA/TlQuoedC7AI/AAAAAAAABcI/TL3fq82AYjA/s220/dawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
