Since joining Crimespace, I've clicked "Approve" whenever I got someone's request to be my friend, but I just added one that made me wonder. When I checked the page, there was no way of identifying the person, even though there was a link to an interesting website. And there was no indication that the person had any specific interest in mysteries.

I'd say more, but the site made me feel too paranoid. And it got me thinking - I'd really like to know who's posting here. Weird aliases, featureless silhouettes and endless photos of cats don't do it for me. Most of you seem to be genuinely interesting individuals with a real interest in myseries, but who knows? Maybe I need to be more cautious. As my husband always reminds me, this is a highly public space, and anyone could be stalking. What do others think?

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Rose you forgot to mention 'and wise' when you said you are wordy. Your posts are always reminder that there is sanity (sorry) and niceness in the world.

And then there is Donna - whom I am really growing to adore --- has she even mentioned her book on here? It is certainly worth a couple of good reads.

And Sandra - what can I say? You are my friend, you have to be since you put up with me dumping on you.

I have *friends* on here I don't know and others I have tea with on occasion. So far the people I have met f2f have made it all worth while. I likely tell too much about myself but really - does anyone, other than my *real* friends, care?
Lynne, when you become a grandmother, I will pass the wise onto you. Comes with the territory.
Right now, I wouldn't want to relive the teenage years as you are doing now. I get to sit back and watch my daughter do it. And laugh. Not where she can hear me, of course.
This is what I meant by wise (or wisdom if you prefer). I like to laugh at my kids. Not always easy to keep them from hearing though.

Teenagers are fun. Interesting and full of life and laughter and still easy to bribe and threaten. I am actually enjoying this stage. Mind you they seem to need about the same amount of watching as two year olds.
I always describe teenagers as two year olds with car keys.

laugh so your kids can hear you. It will embrass them, and you know my mantra on embrassing your kids. Every chance you get.
I am SO with you on this Rose! Isn't embarrassing them the fun part? I remember my mother taking me on a bus trip to the 'big city' when I was about 16. She was a smart, classy woman and she behaved like a yob on that bus the whole trip. I had been visiting the city for weekends for years and staying with my sister so I knew how to behave properly. Needless to say I thought I would DIE before we got there. Mom was just having fun. She was an angel for the rest of the trip. I have NEVER forgotten it.
Your mother sounds like a lady I would have liked. And I still can embrass the adult kids, and that is better yet.
Now I get to embrass my grandkids, but they take more from me than the kids would have. Or maybe they are more like me?
Maybe they were forewarned? I do my best with my bunch but they are not always easy to embarrass. Sometimes it takes real ingenuity. Or just showing up at school and hugging them. Amazing how well that works after about grade 2.
you know my mantra on embrassing your kids. Every chance you get.

Amen, sister. When my 12 year old daughter goes "DAD!" in that horrified voice, my day is complete.
Wow. Terrifice point. I feel stupid now for putting up a photo of Barbara Stanwyck as my Ning photo! But it just gets me in the mood to stay in character for my writing. Shouldn't have studied method acting but there you go! You make a fabulous point. I suppose we have to use caution. One of my "friends" turned out to be most odd indeed. You realise, this has the making for at least one good novel!
Oh for the good old days when you could just hire a guy with bad breath and flat feet to follow around your strange new friend and take pictures that he shows you in the last booth next to the swinging kitchen doors of the 24-hour truckstop cafe that specializes in liver and onions. Then when you found out the truth, no one would know if you were crying because of the pictures, the liver, the onions, or the guy's bad breath.

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