The time suck gateway to hell that is FACEBOOK.
I am relatively new to FACEBOOK. Somehow or another, my name was listed a year or two ago, and I’d occasionally get (and ignore) friendship requests, but until two weeks ago, I was not an active participant. No friends. No posts. No profile. Like ten minutes after perfume has been sprayed, I was there, but not really.
Then a magical thing happened. I accepted my son's request. I figured if I'm lucky enough to have a thirteen year old who still deems me worthy, I ought to jump on that shit.
Anyhoo, accepting his request triggered the FACEBOOK lords to notify my mother ... and poof, I accepted her request. I guess I figured if I'm lucky enough to have an over sixty five year old mother who still deems me worthy, I ought to jump on that shit as well.
And so it began.
In sharing my concern that time spent on FACEBOOK might be spent more productively (revisions people, revisions.) I’ve heard from several sources, that this is a passing stage, and in fact, in time- will level out. This I find heartening. Perhaps I am not unique and there are universal truths or stages most FACEBOOK devotees go through.
Phase 1: Shock and Awe
The sudden awareness that this is where everyone has been hiding; honing witty banter, catching up on scrabble games and comparative analyses of which woman from Grease you most identify with. (Rizzo, must I spell everything out.)
Onslaught of intruding thoughts including but not limited to a friend’s son’s birthday party or a former colleague’s extraordinary luck in scoring those Michael Bouble seats. Can facilitate increased communication with old pals, however, such contact may require answering inquires about your mother’s recent Mah Jong game and how her jello mold came out. (She won; was nonplussed about the mold.)
Digression: There was a popular joke that circled the playgroup pack called the Toddler Credo. It went something like this: If I want it, it's mine. If you have it, and I want it, it's mine. If I ever touched it, it's mine.
You get the picture.
Phase 2: The search for ‘friends’
If I ever slept with you, I'll search. If I wanted to sleep with you, I'll search. If I almost slept with you, I'll search. If you once told fellow eleventh graders that we did it, I'll search.
This is a very informative and time consuming task. Interestingly, this compulsion can strike when least expected. (It’s going to be a great day, they’re playing Layla on the radio. I love this song. Didn’t ol’ what’s his face like Clapton? Or was it Neil Young. I wonder what ol’ what’s his face is up to? … wait a minute, when I get home, I can search.)
Which brings us to Phase 3
The ability to check FACEBOOK updates and posts via handheld device. (Not to be confused with another handheld device.)*
Consider the possibility that any of these fond, faint memories have searched for me.
Phase 5 (Can occur in conjunction with all previous phases)
Evaluate profile photo from every angle. Consider wrinkle ratio and whether that parka makes me look fat (I'm a size four people, swear.)
Wake in middle of the night and resist urge to post recurring dream about terrorists and/or the majesty of a night sweat.
Write blog about FACEBOOK.
And finally, Phase 8
Assess pros and cons of twitter.
*Please note, under no circumstances am I interested -or have ever been interested- in making contact with any of these folks, either real or imagined. I am a happily married woman. **
**How’d that sound honey?