Thursday, June 30, 2011
Met with limited success, I must have gotten bored of that and stayed away for a while. In the meantime Facebook became more popular and many of my friends joined and started posting Mafia Wars and Farmville crap on my wall.
Then when I started to use Facebook again some more, my friends acted like they invented it and it was they who invited me. Saying stuff like "about time you joined Facebook" and "I see you finally got around to posting photos from two Christmases ago." To which I'd comment, "I posted those photos two years ago and I'm just getting around to back-tagging the friends who joined Facebook since then."
Each time Facebook made a minor change to anything, there'd be a collective wave of bitching I couldn't muster the care to participate in.
Then my family started friending me, creating an alarming spike of crappy "cousin Jill sent you a teddy-bear hug" and "what Harry Potter character are you?" spams on my wall. While I appreciated the new way of keeping in contact with my family, I didn't appreciate the new avenue for chain letters and political ramblings. I found myself wondering why I'm friending the same people on Facebook I'd long ago added to my e-mail spam filter.
At one point I started experimenting with Twitter and linked my tweets to my Facebook status. That ended in disaster when I'd tweet something like "Spending a relaxing Sunday afternoon at Joe's pool." These would start an inevitable string of passive-aggressive responses like, "Glad to see you're having fun. I guess that explains why you couldn't drive 600 miles to attend Kimmy's flute recital. You missed an awesome show, but hey, nice tan."
My interest in spending time watching my Facebook news feed has always seemed to wax and wane. Lately Facebook has taken to e-mailing to tell me it misses me, and is getting worried. "Hi Pac, I haven't seen you in a few days, and a lot happened while you're away." Like I didn't already know that.
This latest bout of eff-bee ennui was prompted by a rash of family drama which, thanks to the miracle of social networking, was able to spill from the private underbelly of suburban America and play itself out publicly on my news feed and wall.
Don't get me wrong. I love my brother. But it was his choice to mate with a controlling, emasculating shrew. It's not like we all didn't see that slow-motion train wreck before it even left the station. I love my niece, but she's growing up to be quite the disrespectful teenage bitch. I'm sorry her parents are divorcing, but splashing misdirected virtual bile on her aunts and uncles for it isn't endearing at all. Not one bit. And no, I'm not really sorry. I'm happy. Now run along and play some Therapyville.
If I'm going to be "friends" with children, I reserve the right to slap them when necessary. And oh, it is. Until Facebook provides an app for that, I'm keeping my distance.
I'll be spreading my sunshine on Twitter if you need me. And venting on my blog, of course. ;^) Thanks for listening.