Melissa Stagnaro

A couple of weeks ago, I got a friend request on Facebook from someone who I don’t really call a friend. Oh, I know the person, all right, but it’s complicated. Because of that past drama, I dithered a bit with the decision of whether or not to accept the request. To friend, or not to friend, that was the question.

I was already leaning toward the ‘ignore’ option when I spoke with someone who is genuinely a friend, both on and off the social networking site. Her advice was to reject said request without a second thought. She wouldn’t want that person knowing everything she was doing, she told me.

I had to laugh at that. One, because she was in fact already “friends” with this third party, who shall for the purpose of this discussion continue to remain nameless. But secondly because, let’s be honest, if someone wanted to know about my personal life, all they have to do is pick up a copy of The Evening Sun, or log on to our website, The good, the bad and the ugly – I write about it all.

When I first started at the Evening Sun, my family wanted assurances that I wouldn’t write about them. But don’t worry, they’re use to it by now. Although, come to think of it, they have become a little more tight lipped around the dinner table.

My friends, on the other hand, eat it up. Even when I don’t mention them by name, they are quick to take credit for the roles they have played in my illustrious adventures. They almost seem disappointed when I DON’T blog about them. Do you think maybe I should start charging?

And as if the eyes of our 5,000 subscribers and the 120,000 hits we get a month aren’t enough, I usually post links to my blogs and columns via Facebook and Twitter for the further edification of the masses.

This, according to an article I read earlier today on, classifies me as one of the 12 worst kinds of Facebookers: The Self Promoter. But I don’t agree. I’m not some shameless “self-centered careerist.” I just think everyone should read what I write. [Insert smiley face emoticon here.]