Don’t Facebook Me

I rejoined Facebook the other day.  (I know I said I left for good in a previous post a few months ago.)  But, before you judge me, hear me out.  I rejoined Facebook, but Facebook had other plans fortunately.

I rejoined facebook not because I wanted to, but because I had to.  I did not miss it, as people assumed I did.  I just found life a bit more complex without it. (Thank you Mark Zuckerberg for making us drones.)  Let me explain.

I began meeting people who wanted to stay in touch (much like the K.I.T’s signed by classmates I barely knew in highschool, only I did not know that at the time).  We would trade emails and phone numbers and…nothing.  “Facebook me,” they’d say.  But how could I Facebook you if I am not on Facebook?  Couldn’t I just pick up the phone instead?  We all now have fifty thousand monthly minutes on our cell phones, what could possibly be the problem?  Then there were other people I would meet who decided they would add my husband on Facebook and send me messages through him.  I even met Mommies in Mommy groups who preferred to communicate through Facebook.  “It’s just easier for me,” they’d say.  “I have the app on my phone.”  Your phone also has a keypad and most likely email and text messaging as well.  O.K.  But where did this leave me?

I was beginning to miss out on major life cycle events and announcements.  People bought houses, moved to different countries, had babies or died.  And these were my friends?  I would hear it after the fact and the grand announcement status update when it was already old news.  And as it turns out, most of my “friends” refused to communicate any other way but through statuses.  (It is always about one’s status, isn’t it?)

I felt I had no other choice but to rejoin…unwillingly.

So I gave in.  And shortly after my wall and inbox were filled with nothing but I told you so, I knew you couldn’t stay away, hypocrite, and you came crawling back comments.  A simple “Welcome back” would have been fine (I think I did have one of those.)

Was I a hypocrite, a sell-out, a pawn, a drone?  I would like to think I was none of these, but someone who was left with no other choice.  And perhaps the only person left on Earth who still picked up a phone to dial, not text or update my status.  (Call me old fashioned.) But what was the use if no one answered on the other end?

After approximately twenty four hours or so in Facebook land, I tried to log on again to see just how many of my friends became my “friends.”  I entered my email and password and could not get back in.  I retried while looking down at my fingers as I typed carefully.  Still nothing.  Was it a sign?

Finally I got an error message stating that I would have to “verify” my account with additional information and went through a tedious process where I had to share more information than I cared to, and still nothing.  Needless to say, all roads led to Rome or deletion rather.  My account was set to be deleted in fourteen days if I did nothing.

I decided to do what I do best.  I did nothing.

I am happy to announce that within a few days I will officially be deleted once again.  This time for good.  Now I am just sitting by my phone waiting for a “friend” to notice.  One did, in fact.  But what about the other fifty or so I managed to add? 

Until someone notices, I will just have to spend more time with my son than with my keyboard (when I am not working, that is) and perhaps share a cup of coffee instead of a status updated with a friend.

However, you can still follow me on Twitter…for now: