I have recently crossed a technological threshold of sorts: I have stepped into the modern era by embracing the culture of social media. In layman's terms, I am now a member of Facebook, and I have my own blog. This is particularly notable — even humorous — when you consider that I still don't know how to send a text message on my cell phone.

I don't know how to change the ring tone on my phone, either. But my children, in a deceptive ruse they call "helping," like to secretly record their own voices saying things like "Hey mom, pick up your dang phone!" and save it as my ring tone. What a nice surprise to hear during a meeting with my boss. Once it was even an off-key medley of show tunes. Thanks, girls!

So it is a new day for me, and I hope the engineer at KISS 108 radio, where I worked several years ago, somehow sees this column because he would probably shed a tear ... or want to punch me square in the face. You see, I might have made his job a wee bit harder because of my technical shortcomings. He had to ask me to refrain (OK, forbid me) from touching any equipment except the "on" button for my microphone, which was clearly designated so as not to confuse me (as in a sticker that read "Sue Tabb push this button only"). It was very thoughtful of him — he must have liked me a lot. Funny ... I haven't heard from him in years.

Anyway, back to the present and my new-found virtual vices.

Facebook has opened my eyes to the habits of those who are deeply ensconced in the social networking subculture. I have learned how to poke people, write on walls and ask people I don't know to be my friend. I have read up on what everyone is doing right now as a way to distract myself from something I don't want to be doing right now. I have read profiles that give me more information about someone than I ever wanted to know, like their bra size or the diminishing value of their 401k. It can be wildly fascinating and at the same time a little creepy — sort of like when you're drawn to a car wreck on the side of the road.

I've also discovered that Facebook is a great way for someone to boost their self-esteem. First of all, the photos would have you believe that every member possesses movie star good looks (can you say Photoshop?) Profiles can be enhanced in a way that will paint a very favorable — albeit false — picture of you: Taking a CPR refresher course? Why, you're in medical school! Been outside your city limits? You're a world traveler! I'm thinking of updating my profile just slightly to include my nickname: Heidi Klum.

Then there is the addictive world of blogging, which I crossed into just a couple of months ago when I launched my parenting blog, www.parentpill.com. It has been a fun and eye-opening experience for sure. Here are a few things I learned:

Blogging is like screaming at your kids; the more you do it, the easier it gets.

Blogging is a lot like parenting; you put a lot of hard work into it, and there is very little payoff. No one is going to thank you for your insight. In fact, if you get anyone to comment at all, they'll tell you what a moron you are.

A blog is a lot like a diary that everyone on the planet has a key to open. Most will opt not to read it, though, because they think your life is boring and pathetic and uninteresting, which will make you wish you had taken that offer to pose nude in a tabloid magazine when you were 20.

Blogging is like drinking; one hour turns into three before you emerge from your office in a drunken stupor, wondering who you were just talking to and why.

Blogging is like playing the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. It's all about who you are connected to, and you are connected to just about everyone if they can name at least three movies that Kevin Bacon starred in.

So that should surely answer the question regarding what I've been up to lately — I've been up till about 1 a.m. poking strangers, writing on walls and blogging into the abyss for no apparent reason. Yeah, I know, sounds like a personal problem to me.

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Sue Tabb is a public relations consultant and freelance writer from Newburyport. To read more of her work, visit www.parentpill.com.¬