When Facebook first launched at university, I scoffed (I had a REAL social life), refused to sign up and enjoyed the Crimson updates of the twins vs. the nerd (and now I can follow this battle on the NYTimes...the nerd is winning. The nerd is rich. Remind me some day to tell you the story of one of my colleagues who once got a marriage proposal from Bill Gates and passed it up. Not that I would want to have sex with Bill Gates either -- he's no Vladimir Putin -- but COME ON).
Eventually, I moved to NYC and decided that this "social networking site" everyone raved about would be a great way to find a jogging partner (it wasn't) -- plus, let's be honest, the REAL social life I had in college (that's a euphemism for "I was getting laid") was not a reality in the city that never sleeps. So begun my sad spiral into Facebook life, which to my credit has generally be reactive (though I did get into Scrabulous for awhile, but no one seems to want to play anymore, which sucks because I like that game the way I like tetris and puzzles, proving that I am in fact a huge nerd. So, where's that marriage proposal Mark?).
Now, this was an especially epic week on Facebook, but not because some random dude with the same last name as me tried to find out if we are related ("My grandma is from Lithuania, primarily Kaunas, and I think we have long lost family in New York." What, so you want to hang out now, have a Passover sedar or something? Where the hell is Kaunas? And I'm Romanian mother fucker). No, even better, my mother has joined the ranks of drones to become a member of Facebook.
But can I blame her? Should she be denied a procrastination tool loved by so many? Why read a book when you can be a virtual vampire in a Catholic school girl outfit? If I was 16, I would fear the intrusion into "my" life -- from what I understand, texting and Facebook are the final frontiers of teenage privacy. The good news is a) I don't really use Facebook all that much (i.e. you can't find out what movies I like, if I'm straight, how I feel about social security, where I took vacation or when the last time I took a crap was by looking at my page...I mean, what person with a college degree connects their Facebook feeds to their PDA? you know who you are you sick fucks) and b) even if I did, my mom is not technologically advanced enough to troll through pictures of me or understand the generational repartee that is wall postings. Indeed, she had to send me her profile photo for me to post on her behalf.
In short, everybody log on and ask Mary to be your Facebook friend.
holy shit, I can't believe I just dedicated a whole posting to Facebook and in a roundabout way admitted I joined in order to get men to pay attention to me. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
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