Facebook! Mostly it is a wonderful way to reconnect with people you don’t get to see as often as you would like. Hey, I met some of my friends’ kids for the first time that way. And sometimes people post pictures of me from an event I attended the week before, which makes me feel like I’m important. That’s right, that’s me, who drank a beer at some bar on Saturday. I’m pretty special. For the most part I like other people’s pictures of me. Sometimes it’s a picture where I’m smiling too big and my double chin makes a guest appearance, but at least my friend looks great in the picture.
Yesterday I was especially distracted, and there I was looking at a friend’s vacation photos. My excuse is I never get to see them in real life, so I’m catching up with them by looking at their photos, but in reality part of it feels like stalking. My Facebook habits took a bad turn when I realized that an acquaintance had un-friended me. I spent the next 30 minutes trying to figure out why someone would do this. Was it my incessant posting? But I hardly ever update my status. Was it something about my face that ticked her off? Maybe it was the fact that I haven’t seen her in years and the fact that we’re more acquaintances than anything. And maybe I should let it go. But my mind couldn’t stop reeling.
It reminded me of the time in junior high when my girlfriends and I were invited to a house party. This girl Dana invited my two other best friends to get ready at her house before the party, but didn’t extend an invitation to me. I was so angry and hurt. Why would she purposely not invite me? Maybe she knew I didn’t like her. Dana was a precious little Barbie girl who was equally envied and nerdy. She ate very 90s health food–like carob bars and crap like that and she had coordinating purses (always with a box of tic tacs) and outfits, perfectly set makeup and curled her hair every day. She looked like a mini cast member of the hit film “Working Girl” crossed with a creepy beauty pageant kid. Oh and she was blonde. Maybe that was implied in the Barbie doll part. Oh and did I mention she was not nice? Well she wasn’t. Oh I wonder where Dana is now.
So because of stupid Dana, I had to go to the party alone, and I got the timing all wrong and ended up being the first girl to arrive. For whatever reason all the boys were sitting in a circle in the back yard in folding chairs–which for an awkward junior high girl was a scary thing to approach. But lucky for me they pulled up a chair just for me and I awkwardly joined the folding chair circle with them. At some point the guys thought it would be hilarious to make fake fart noises with their chairs, so they went around the circle making fart noises, but when the fart rounded the circle to one kid, he made the fart noise without moving his chair, if you know what I mean. Everyone cleared out, me included. I ended up walking out of the back yard, through the house and onto the suburban street, to escape the dude festival and fume about my friends not being there and that darned Dana! Oh junior high.
I eventually returned to the party but my point is, Facebook, why do you make me feel like I’m this same junior high kid again? Obviously I can’t blame Facebook. I need to take control again, which is why I am fasting from Facebook for a few days until I can behave like an adult…or at least try to.