Ahhhhh… I had a feeling that any day now I would be compelled to address this complicated subject in my life. Today I awoke to this hater (pardon all the Britishisms).
There’s enough press about Facebook lately to know that it’s some kind of behemoth. And there’s a reason it appealed to a whole world of people who are scared to death of mySpace: people like me. But there are so many days, more and more, that I get a little message from Facebook and sigh and think, yet again, what have I done?
It’s awkward for me when someone “friends” me and I actually have no idea who they are. And more awkward when I “friend” someone and they don’t accept. What if my status updates are too boring? Did I describe myself well? Is it hilarious enough? Is someone creepy looking at my photos and doing something inappropriate? Why did I just spend two hours looking through every photo album of a person I have said no more than five words to in the last ten years? Say it with me now, people: v o y e u r i s m.
In my perfect world, all my friends would be on my Facebook page (so join now, you haters!) so I could keep track of their daily trivia and see pictures of my favorite faces. And all the people I don’t know or who make me mildly uncomfortable wouldn’t be. But that’s not how Facebook works. You’re supposed to up your “friend” tally, clamor for new connections, revive long-lost relationships. The net result, I believe, is positive. It’s been fun to see that a person I really did love in elementary school is happy and doing well, and it’s handy to be reminded of someone’s birthday. It’s great to see an old friend’s new baby, keep track of my wild cousins and their Generation Z cohorts and it can make my day to get a funny message on my Wall. It’s just that I can’t shake the feeling I suck for not playing “Scramble” or “Scrabulous.” And I haven’t received enough “gifts.” Why does everyone hate me?!
Oh wait, I AM POPULAR!