The One With the Attack of the Emoticons

The other night my friend Gardenweasel and I were chatting on Facebook. Yes, we live only half a mile from each other. And yes, we both have phones. Multiple phones…that is true. But there is something liberating about chatting on Facebook. I type almost as fast as I think, so I can utter insensitive remarks just as quickly that way as I can in person. Maybe faster.

The only problem was that Gardenweasel was having some Facebook trouble, and Facebook Chat kept dropping her. Not to make fun of disabled persons (I know…anything you have to preface like that is ill-advised and should definitely not be said, and I know this is going to come back to bite me), it was sort of like I imagine it would be communicating with Stephen Hawking. As she repeated herself in a manic way, stuttered, and took forever to string together a single sentence, I found myself holding my breath, feeling very sorry for her, and actually had the urge to dab at the drool that it seemed must certainly be stringing from the corner of her mouth.

In her frustration, she resorted to a very guttural, almost primal form of communication. It consisted of an occasional word
repeated
repeated
like
this

punctuated by a few swear words. Okay, maybe more than a few…
$#@^%*!

but...and this is the best of all… EMOTICONS.

Suddenly I was talking with a very expressive mute. I realized that I have been ignoring a very potent method of communication. Emoticons can tap into the deep emotional well of my soul.

Let’s say, for instance, that you want to tell your son how you feel when he doesn’t do his homework. Here is how this would go:

Sam,

I am very that you are doing such a job at turning in your homework. Your teacher is very as well. I would like to say that I am at your lack of initiative, but the attitude which you have cultivated over the past 15 years has not escaped my attention. I know that you would like me to believe that you are, and that this “misunderstanding” was brought about by your utter because you are just too smart for this class. I am very you feel this way, as you seem to have me with someone who feels for you. No, Sam, the fact is, you are in very deep . I am completely by your report card, and I am that after we have taken away your ipod, your phone, your ability to sit without , and all the other conveniences with which your father and I have been accustomed to providing you, it will be no time at all before we will be with you on your straight-A comeback. .

you,
Mom