My fear of Facebook

I got pulled into the hi5 thing and soon regretted it. After my friend count crossed 85 I realised things had gotten pretty ridiculous. I don’t even think I know 85 people, far less for having 85 friends. After a while I realised the majority of these friends had two things in common. They were male. And they were single. Sorry, three things. They were particularly slimy. It was only when I realised it was possible to see who’d been looking at your profile that I understood the seriousness of the situation. People I had not seen in years – and for good reasons – were scoping me out. Pictures of me in bikinis, playing mas or playing the fool were being viewed by people whose existence I preferred to leave unacknowledged. I was unimpressed. Eventually, I started getting offers of marriage from strange men littered across the globe. I haven’t been back in over a year.

Then it was MySpace. Every musician I knew invited me to check out their MySpace profile but that was tolerable. Since I had no musical ambitions myself and possessed with the usual self obsession common with their tribe, my musically inclined friends were content for me to join as a friend and check out their music for free. I was able to slink by unnoticed for the most part, visiting but never joining.

But then came Facebook. And I don’t know why but it seems everyone has become gripped by its albums and it’s macoing potential. And the potential to maco is enormous. Stories have come back to me from friends who’ve been contacted by their stalker exes, their child father baby mothers, bitter enemies from Form Three and their neighbour’s cousin best friend brother. It seems the social networking site isn’t quite sure how to differentiate between a true friend and a potential “faller”. And I find that very, very discouraging.

I’ve heard all sorts of excuses as to why I should join, the number one reason being it’s a great way to stay in contact with your friends. I say, rubbish. You know why? All my friends know how to contact me. They have my e-mail address at the very least. Most of them have my phone number as well. My folks live in the same house and have the same phone number they’ve always had so if push comes to shove and somebody needs to contact me they only have to jump in their car and visit or call. Anybody who doesn’t have my address, my folks address, my phone number or my e-mail, well, the chances are pretty good that that person isn’t really that much of a friend. And I probably won’t be too happy to be contacted by them. I also know how to contact all my friends. I give them a call or send them an e-mail. And thoroughly bouf them if they don’t respond quickly. After all, do so doh like so.

The second argument they push my way is that it’s a good way to make friends. Look. Was something wrong with the old ways of making friends? Like at school, in the gym, making sweet eye and then bussing style at the good looking darkie that pose up in the corner in the fete? I’ve made some good friends this way. I’m not in a hurry to change my methods now.

The main turn-off with Facebook however is the work involved. The people I know who are on are constantly adding photos, updating their profiles, checking out what’s going on with their friends, editing their friends book. I am a busy woman. I have a lot of things I have to do. Constantly updating mediocre facts about my life is not going to be one of them. I know this makes me sound kind of strange but I find the idea of keeping a website up to date so people will know what’s going on with me quite irritating. So I went to a party last Saturday. Who cares? Does that tell you anything of substance about me? If I’m sick, happy, disenchanted with the situation in Darfur? Does that add anything of substance to your life? Does it reduce the amount of money you have to pay for gas? Flour? A tin of Crix? Does it increase the amount of people I have to avoid though? Why yes, yes it does. And therefore, I’m not interested.

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