Butthurt.

Yep, I'm deleting you due to butthurt.

You have never commented on any of my major life events.  You have never taken any notice of my pictures, my posts, my tags, my kids, my husband (who was also a friend of yours)... you've never replied when I've commented on anything of yours.  You've never said happy birthday -- not that I even care about those -- but still. 

This stuff happens, especially when someone isn't an avid Facebooker, but I always thought we were friends.  We have a good history, and have never had any falling outs.  You were one of the people I looked forward to seeing the most when I went to get my coffee every day.  I was one of your biggest fans when you decided to join AA/NA.  I used to tease you about your dad, and jokingly threatened to become your stepmom.

But I'm feeling ignored, and feeling like an asshole for even trying to keep a conversation going.  It's clear that our interactions are over, and I'm not one to be a sad case.  I'll move on.

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Today's deletion nominated herself.  Read on, and note that other that removing names and pictures, not a word has been altered.

Is this true? If so... someone shoot his black ass!!!.
It was announced that there will not be Christmas trees at the White house this year. They will be called Holiday Trees. Obama says this is no longer a Christian Country, it's a country of many faiths. As Americans must send a message to Obama that this Country was founded on Christian beliefs and we are STILL a Christian Country...

Friend 1: that history part is true Virginia was settled for religious freedom by the English a long time ago 

Me:  Did you get hacked? 

Ex-Friend:  Lol! Nope just love Christmas, and can't call the Christmas tree anything else! Just not right! Lol!

 

To which I wanted to reply, and wrestled with myself all afternoon NOT to reply, "Well then, lol, I suppose you're probably right, and that this is probably exactly what Jesus himself would have posted to his Wall.  Aside from 'Kill the darkie.' Lol!"

I'm not sure the sarcasm would have been picked up on, and if it had, I'm not the type to argue with bigoted idiots, especially on the internet.  The trouble with bigoted idiots, you see, is that NOTHING YOU SAY will convince them that they are wrong.  Nothing will make them the least bit introspective -- which is what I was leaning toward with the question about hacking (as in "Did some bigoted idiot post to your page when you weren't looking, because I can't believe that a rational, intelligent person would post this shit for everyone to see").  I gave her a chance to backpedal, or even to step back and reconsider what she may have posted hastily and thoughtlessly earlier in the day, or in a different mood.  No dice.

The shame is, I'd enjoyed having this online friend.  I'd never seen anything like this from her before, so I'm shocked and disappointed.  She seems to have some absolutely wonderful, generous, selfless kids -- and I'm being entirely sincere -- so she must be doing something right.  All we can do is hope those apples roll far away from the tree.   

 

Fallen behind again

1.  Um, maybe you were a cheerleader?  And once my mother made a point of telling me you worked at Bellevue, and I had NO CLUE who she was talking about.  That's how tight we were.

2.  We were pals when we were four or five.  You showed me your mom's bra, and we played doctor hiding under your bed.  I think we were riding (both on the front seat, sharing a seat belt?!?) in your mom's car when I saw my first solar eclipse after preschool one day.  And our history beyond that is largely non-existant.  I think you were one of the "hey look, there's ___" friends I made when I first joined the 'Book.

3.  We were in the same Girl Scout Troop.  And the same class in 4th grade.  Once I picked up your dog Muffin's poop off of your bedroom floor because I thought it was a rubber fake poop.  I mean, really, who leaves real poop on the floor?!?

4.  Creepy not-housemate that was always around my (shared) house.  Door-guy at my favorite bar.  Now you work at my ex-job.  Always on the periphery, never a friend.  And did I mention creepy?

5.  High school pizza place co-worker, who married another pizza place co-worker, had kids, divorced, and married a cheerleading friend.  And had more kids.   Not so much the hippie you once were, from the looks of things, but seemingly happy.  Good on ya. 

6.  My formerly very-close friend's sister's former best friend.  That's it.

7.  Another homeroom "H" pal.  Last interaction was a "Hey, stranger" over a year ago.  Sometimes you comment on sports.  Hmm.

8. Once upon a time, you gave me your army jacket.  When you went AWOL.  You are 6'4" and about 250 lbs.  It fit great!  ;)

Down to 250 friends!  Until next time....

Mutual Friends

Today I'm eliminating people that I only have a connection of "mutual friends" with.  The people who I share 30-50 connections with, but still don't have any direct contact, or real history with.  I've chosen them with a persona non grata as a starting point.

1.  You "babysat" for me once on a car ride to a Phish show. 

2.  Sigh.  A really nice guy, who was really just a friend-of-a-friend when we lived in the same town.  Sometimes I'm conflicted about removing people, because I don't want them to take it personally.  But realism needs to win out if this is going to be successful.  But you haven't posted since June, so....

3.  You were really just kind of a mean person in high school.  I hope that's changed, but don't have any evidence either way.  The guys you hung out with were all just rude and mean, and I even think you nicknamed me "crappy" at one point.  I'm not holding a grudge, but also not holding on to people who haven't influenced me for the better.

4.  One-way posting:  I tried twice to start a dialogue with you, and you left me hanging.  And then posted a guilt-inducing comment about not acknowledging your mom's passing when I was traveling to our hometown?!?  And I don't think I'd ever met her. 

Still whittling away!

More "Nevers"

1.  A childhood friend of my brother's.

2.  A girl I've known since elementary school, who could pinch her tiny nostrils shut, and keep them sealed by creating a vacuum in her beautiful head.  Weird thing to remember, eh?

3.  A guy who used to be a good friend, but has never said hello.  I suspect it has something to do with loyalties to an old bf of mine?  Meh.  Whatevs.

4.  A guy who used to make "artsy" films in high school.  I was in one.  Had to walk down a street a bunch of times, and then laugh into a camera.  I'm glad to see that segued into a career.  Well done!

5.  I've got nothing... were we in band together, maybe?  You own a bead-making/jewelry store now.  And, uh...

... that'll bring me down to 260.  Getting there, and getting bolder and more realistic about these "friendships," although there are still people I'm gun-shy about deleting for no real reason at all.  Even across 20 years and 2000 miles, I'm still overly concerned with people's opinions of me.  Interesting.

You can take the punk out of the gutter...

...but, no, you can't take the punk out of the gutter.

Last I saw you, you were making an honest attempt to pull yourself up by the bootstraps by becoming a model Starbucks employee, with aspirations to, what, own the company?  I mean, to the point that you ridiculed me for rating myself "too high" on their indoctrination training exams.  Really, dude?

And now, I see that everything you post is somehow anti-corporation.  Had an epiphany, did we?  I wonder what you're actually doing with yourself now (you were always good entertainment, after all), but we've had no interaction -- by my choice. 

Speaking of entertainment, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for your "dude" baby shower, complete with copious amounts of alcohol... and sex toys?!?!?  No, really, that's what it said, right there on the invitation you sent out to all hundred-or-so friends who were included.  Maybe you're just confusing the traditions of the bachelor/stag party with what usually goes on when you're settling down to become the caretaker of a tiny, helpless person.  Or maybe tiny infants immediately make you think of penetration with vibrating -- gah!  I can't even finish typing that sentence.  I'm sure your intention was to eschew all the behaviors of "respectable" society for one last night, but it came off really awkward.  Or else you're fucked up beyond my comprehension.

As much as I enjoy a good train wreck, I'm afraid this one will be too disturbing for me.  Sayonara.

Getting behind again...

So, another group send-off:

1.  Met you at a party.  We had a few beers, and a few common interests.  I thought maybe you'd be good to network with, but really, I'm not going back to work anytime soon.  Our mutual friend is right next door, so I know where to find you, should I need to.

2.  You're super-nice, but we don't interact at all, nor will we.  It was nice to be in the same chorus.  In high school.  That was a long time ago.  I have to admit, your constant linking to motivational and spiritual messages make me roll my eyes.  It's not you, it's me.  Whatever works for ya.

3.  What a great English teacher you were!  I enjoyed your class, and you really encouraged me to write well, which I continued into my college years.  However, we never write anything to each other...  Ciao!

4.  That "See friendship" thing?  Blank.  Which makes sense, seeing as how you're not a person, but a charity memorial fund. 

5.  Another shared last initial, and therefore, homeroom.  Oh, and that whole football/basketball/cheerleading thing.  But beyond that?  You look great -- cute little girl, cute twin boys.  Good luck.

6.  I met you ONE time, on a trip to Colorado, about eight years ago.  We have a couple of friends in common, and both like Pink Floyd.  Who doesn't like Pink Floyd, really?  So...

7.  Again, that "See friendship" thing-a-ma-jigger?  Blank.  Despite the fact that you were sorted into 7 of my different lists.  I think that if we were going to interact, it would have happened by now.  Glad to see you're in NYC, working onstage, and seemingly happy.


And that brings me down to a nice, round 265 friends.  Whittling, whittling away!!!

OWS: Weed yourself out!

I'm not going to get into my specific political beliefs here.  Not the place.

But I will say that I'm intolerant of idiocy. 

Today's deletion threw a political grenade in the form of an anti-Occupy Wall Street poster.  That's okay, that's his right.  The reason I have a problem with it, is that he just posted it to irritate people.  His "friends" proceeded to get into a full-out discourse on the sate of politics and capitalism in the resulting thread, and it was really interesting to read.  I enjoyed it immensely, mostly because it meant that these people were actually taking time to think.

And then he chimed back in with a message which was basically, "Hippies smell bad.  And they're in my way.  Derp"

Useless.

Waste of my time.

And I literally have never met you in real life (at one point, friend-of-a-FB-friend, you were occasionally interesting, so I approved your request) so this one is a no-brainer.  Pun intended. 

Thank you for the ninja flip.

And the night you tricked me into letting you leave my house -- super drunk -- by claiming that you had to use to bathroom, and then snagging your keys and driving away.  And all the times you scream-sang into my ear, because you thought you sounded awesome.

Aside from my initial hello to you, in June of 2009, we've been pretty mum friends.  Well, absolutely mum.  Good to see you're alive, hope the feeling is mutual. 

As you were.

Meh.

Friend-of-a-friend:  many of our "mutual" friends are likely to get cut, too.  You were the cousin of my first boyfriend/secret admirer.  In middle school.  It was a short-lived courtship, and our friendship was even more tenuous.  I'm glad to see you are well.  

Football.

Enough said?

It's a l-o-n-g season, and once again, we've never had any other interaction, don't live in the same town, are highly unlikely to visit each others' towns, and wouldn't know what to say if we bumped into each other.

I have a feeling there will be a few posts identical to this one, so for the sake of brevity, we'll just title those "Football" too, the rest will be presumed to be identical to this one.

Enough said. 

(Go Bills!)

Yawn.

Nothing interesting from me today.

You and I went to all the same public schools.  Your older sister was one of my coaches in high school.  Who may or may not have intercepted a note that I'd written to a boy which probably would have caused me great heartache and embarrassment.  Probably would have.  Maybe not her most honest moment, but well-intended.

And notice that none of these details are actually about today's deletion herself....

Easy Peasey.

You've got nearly 1000 friends (976).  You won't miss me one bit.  And I won't miss reading about soccer, probably the lowest sport on my imaginary totem-pole of competitive professional sports.  My favorite thing about soccer is watching soccer players "juggle" the ball.  But that's about as competitive as watching a circle of hippies with a hacky-sak.  And about as related to the actual game as the Harlem Globetrotters are to basketball.

Oooh, and soccer-player calves.  Those are good, too.  I've yet to see a photo of soccer-calves on your page.  Probably because it'd be frowned on, seeing as how you're a high school coach and all....

Nice.

You are nice.  Nice, nice, nice.  You've always been nice.  I think. 

You smile a lot.  It makes you look nice.  I've never been angry with you.  Must be you're nice.  You never complain.  Probably because you're so nice.  I don't have a single bad thing to say about you.  'Cause you're (wait for it...) NICE!

And that's all I know or remember about you.  I haven't even been able to glean any real information about you from your page, so I don't know who the baby in your pictures is.  But I betcha he's nice!

A rule I've been holding to as it has gotten harder to eliminate people is to ask the question: "Would I be able to crash on this person's couch?"  And with you, the answer would indubitably be "Yes!"  However, I would never be comfortable enough to consider asking, considering our lack of any sort of relationship.  Which I guess really makes the answer a no....

So, without further ado -- it's been nice!

Dicks!

Nope, I'm not calling names. 

Today's elimination is another of the "nevers," who beyond connecting accounts with, I've never had online interaction with.  Once upon a time I worked with you, but we weren't really pals.  I was a bartender.  You liked to drink.  That was the primary reason for our acquaintance.  That, and you were the girlfriend of the guy who made the beer.

You liked to draw pictures of dicks.  On everything!  They weren't really artistic, just a gross mushroomy cock-and-balls with stubbly little pubes.  You even drew them on the framed photo we were gifting our boss for his 40th birthday.  Totally classy, totally crazy, and the thing that I'll remember you for forever.  Isn't that a wonderful legacy???

So, cheers to you, dick-drawer!  

 /=======D  ~~~
O0

Sunday Softies

We met through a friend, but lived on the opposite ends of the world, and then all of your other friends had a falling out with this friend, and really, I don't even hang out with this girl at all anymore... so we just never will be in the same place at the same time, unless it's completely random chance.

That said, I frickin' LOVE you.  You are so pure and sweet.  Your posts are so full of hope, without being cliched and hallmark-y.  You are one of the few people who can pull of "this is what I'm hoping to do/ am doing right this minute/ am going to do" without sounding like a self-important braggart.  You're proud of what you've accomplished, happy with what you have, and genuinely wish for the best for others.

Best of all, you have a way of saying things that is so direct and so simple that it feels absolutely raw, as if you're somehow able to channel your emotions into pixels.  I felt it when you finally got the teaching position you'd been pining for, when your stepmother died, and when your new baby was born.  It's magic.

I hope to continue to read your posts, and that maybe I'll find a little of that magic in my own someday.

Forgetbook

You've all but abandoned your account.

Unlike a lot of other people, I actually did bump into you the last time I visited my college town.  We said "hey," and then parted ways.

Also, it sketches me out to let you have any access to information about my kids.  You always had housemates that were single moms with kids, as well as a friend who was single with a kid... yet you weren't interested in a relationship with these women.  Let's just say I found it odd, and leave it at that.

And acknowledge that if I don't want you to see my pictures, or read my posts, what's the point?

I Love Music!

No, really.  It's one of my favorite things in the whole wide world.  I appreciate new music, and I love to hear old throwbacks that make me nostalgic for my youth, and I love to hear music that I'd forgotten how much I loved.

Genre is unimportant.  Great music is great music, regardless of whether it wears a cowboy hat, a trucker cap, an overturned flower pot, or a stingy-brim fedora (with requisite black-framed eyeglasses).

But please, I know how YouTube works.  Usually when you visit to watch a video, they'll follow it up by suggesting other songs/videos by the same artist, other versions of the same song, or similar artists playing music in the same genre.  Not once have I EVER seen a video I loved, and then sat helplessly with my arms dangling, exclaiming, "Well, shoooot... if only there were more music like that!" And then picked the lint out of my bellybutton, watching your newsfeed and praying for more.

So.  It's unnecessary for you to post thirteen consecutive videos of John Prine, or Tom Waits, or Lady Gaga.  Pick your favorite song, the one that really gets you pumped, the one that you'd have played at your funeral.  Hell, if you're trying to illustrate the breadth of your favorite artist's talent, post two -- their gangster rap accompanied by mandolin AND their love ballad featuring the theramin.  If I dig it, I'll follow up with my own research into more.

But for fricks sake, thirteen?!?!?  I don't even want to click your damn link.

And it'd be forgivable if you interspersed these with actual news and updates created by your own brain, but you don't.  It's irritating.  So for the sake of saving my time, I have to say goodbye. 

(To BOTH guilty Birds -- with one Rolling Stone.)


***Correction:  all THREE of you, thanks #3 for reminding me by posting NINE videos WHILE I TYPED THIS!  Cripes....

Puff, puff... I'll pass.

Hey, guy.

That was a pretty well thought out argument about legalizing pot you made this morning.  Except that your whole premise was that Thomas Jefferson and the other founding fathers "smoked cannabis."  This was an interesting factoid and basis of debate -- in high school, when the rest of us discussed it.  You said this as if smoking weed would actually turn one into the caliber of person who would start a revolution and found a new country.

And not the kind of guy whose pictures feature a mish-mash of scrubby looking people sitting on a peeling-paint porch in an ever-dying factory/prison town in Upstate NY.  I'm pretty sure Monticello wasn't in a housing project.

I know that sounds like some pretty cold shit to say.  But you're the one who made the comparison, not me.  I acknowledge that sometimes people meet with some pretty hard luck, and need a hand up to overcome circumstances outside of their control.  But you're not one of them.  You're in your early thirties, white, and male. Pretty privileged in our society.

Nor do I disagree with your stance on legalization -- pot should be legal, taxable, and safe.  Hemp should be used as a renewable resource.  And yes, there are a number of legitimate medical uses for cannabis. 

The points you make would resonate (no pun intended) much more strongly coming out of the mouth of someone others can look up to.  Someone who has educated themselves more extensively than on "The History of Marijuana Use in U.S. Government, as told in Modern Oral Tradition."  I know, you want to believe that your circumstances exist because you're being oppressed by "The Man."  But you're not.  Really. 

You should go ahead, and keep on puffing.  But take personal responsibility for where it has taken you.  It'd be a whole lot cooler if you did.

Okay, Basefook, this is war. Epic elimination!

Hey, I'm behind on my project anyway.  So, I'm just going to drop a bomb on about 20 people today, both to get caught up, and potentially to unclutter this ridiculous new news feed.

1.  You'd be thrilled to be an extra on Jersey Shore.  Jersey Shore wouldn't have you.  Not visiting Long Beach ever, so, we're officially out of touch.  For good.  No, really.  For GOOD!

2.  We used to be housemates for a time in college.  We barely spoke then, in person, under the same roof.  Things really got awkward after you caught your boyfriend hooking up with our other (male) housemate.  Not that I have any problem with that.  But being that it's really the ONLY personal detail I know about your life, well... can't really call that a friendship.  But it was neat to find you, across the country, after all this time.
 
3.  We hung out in the library during study halls for one semester of one year of high school.  You were a jock, and acted like an ass, and it was funny.  Then.  Now it's just kind of sad that your sense of humor hasn't matured at all.  You're a serviceman, and I thank you for that!  Best luck to you, hope you don't get deployed again.

4.  Nice, funny guy.  One of "my" employees in Boulder, CO.  We both like Phish, and are from the northeast.  I haven't lived in CO for six years.  We haven't been in contact since.
 
5.  Elementary school art teacher.  "Hey, remember that time I made a pinch pot and put ears on it like a dog?  Yeah....  That was great...."  *crickets*

6.  Your mom babysat me in 3rd grade.  I got in trouble because one of the other kids taught me about french kissing (with dolls) and I passed that information on to one of the other kids.  I thought it was totally gross and fascinating.  Jeez, why'd the adults all freak out?  Watching Thundercats was fun.  And... that's about the extent of it.

7.  We're friends because you're sort-of-but-not-really related to my husband.  And really not related to me.  I don't even think that you and he are friends.  You still call things that you don't like "gay" and referred to your wife as "sugar tits" on your public anniversary message to her.  Maybe it's just an inside joke, but don't forget that not everybody is on the "inside."  Therefore it just makes you look like an asshole.

8.  Dude, you don't keep in touch with ANYBODY.  And last I heard, you were mad at me for not dating you before I started dating my husband.  (?!?)  That's just weird.  Maybe I'll see you again.  I'll just keep an eye out for the guy who looks just like David Cross. 

9.  My friend from high school's girlfriend.  I gave you money for a charity.  I don't feel like you "owe" me a pseudo-friendship because of it.  I was glad to do it.  You live a few hours away... maybe we'll actually meet in person sometime.  THEN we'll revisit this "friends" business!

10.  Rockin' out on the keys in E-town.  Maybe I'll see you there.  But probably not.

11.  Your extended family is "family" with my extended family.  You use this as a business/advertising platform, and have almost 3000 friends.  Neither of us will be missed.

12.  Your divorce/custody battle posts have brought soap-opera drama to my news feed.  But I don't really know anyone involved, and would hate to have near-strangers so knowledgeable of my personal life.  I hope it all works out for you.  Were we in the same grade?  I don't really remember....

13.  Dad of a friend of my long-deceased brother.  Friended you to try to get in touch with your son.  Avid Frontierville gamer.  Dead-end Basefook friend!

14.  Much older sister of someone I'd like to keep in touch with.  I assume I'll find out any of your important news from her, since you and I are not *really* friends....

15.  We live in the same town.  We have some mutual friends.  But we haven't even bumped into each other in many years.  And probably wouldn't recognize each other if we did.  Unless, of course, we recognized each others' children.  In fact, we probably wouldn't know each others names if we didn't see them in print here.  We'd just be "so-and-so's mom." 

16.  You lived down the street from my childhood home.  And... that's it!

17.  You know how you can click on "See Friendship" and see all of your interactions, and sometimes there's nothing there?  Yeah, that.  I guess the old cheerleading posse has little to say beyond "Go Team!"

18.  G McC is the biggest asshole I've ever met in my life.  I know he was from my current state -- if I ever saw him broken down on the side of the road, I'd hit him before I'd stop to help him.  While you might be a decent person, I can't help but to associate you with him.

19.  I still have a drawing that you did 17 years ago when you were stoned every day, and living in a hippie flop-house.  It's pretty good.  But a whole lot cooler when you're stoned!

20.  And finally... *crickets* again where the "See friendship" should be.  All of our mutual friends will probably eventually be deleted too.


Wahoo!  I'm down to below 300!  Solidly! Only 190 left to cut!  Sigh... this will take a while....

White People Problems

Ok, we get it.  You're a DINK (Dual Income No Kids), a world traveler, a night owl, a beer drinker, and an all around fun-time gal.  You got a new job 2000 miles away, and think that you're about to embark on an amazing new adventure in your amazing new life.

I hardly knew you when you were here.

But I certainly don't need to hear every detail about your move.  Your new mattress, your desk for your new computer, your apartment, your string-green pattern couch and clever table with the yin-yang.  Especially when it's all accompanied by sighs and groans and moans about the inconvenience of it all.  And the angst!  Oh, the angst!

The kicker was tonight when a friend pointed out that maybe your stuff hadn't been moved quickly enough for your liking because of the FIRES that have engulfed our entire state.  Your reply?  "The fires are south, but I give you an 'A' for effort." 

Wow.  And I'll give YOU an 'A' for compassion.  You suck.  Goodbye.

The Third Sister

Your oldest sister is unbearably pretentious.

Your middle sister is unbearably shallow.

I don't really know you at all.  I guess I've always figured that you HAD to be a decent person, because there's no way all three of you could have turned out awful. 

I hope I'm right!  But have no idea, really, as we've never spoken beyond niceties.  Nor will we, being across the country from each other and all.  So, take care and give your sisters my love.

Are you still here?

So, hi.  Yeah. 

...

We had homeroom together.  Our last names both started with "H." 

"H-a" to be even more precise.  So we sat kind of close to each other.

Looks like you're a happy guy.  Looks like you enjoy your job.  Your wife seems pleasant and happy and all that good stuff too.  There's even a baby in one of your pictures (but only one picture), so you may or may not even be a dad.

And, well, that pretty much sums it up.  Chances are slim that I'll ever see you again.  Not even if they seat us alphabetically in heaven. 

Getting back to business, here.

You.  Gone!

You post quite a bit, and occasionally I respond if I have something pertinent to say.  On the rare occasion that I give a crap (which isn't often, and is never related to your updates on what/how much you'll be spending money on).  My responses are met with... ***crickets.***

Oh, except for that one time.  When you were stressing about your kids' birthday parties being so close together, and I lightheartedly suggested that you combine them, as I do, and that themes such as "Robot Beach Party" and "Ninja Princesses" could eventually be really fun.  To which you replied, "I would never combine my children's birthday parties.  I want them to feel special on their special day."

Well, then.

You've always been sanctimonious.  It's never been appreciated.

And I have no plans to go to Myrtle Beach, which for some reason is considered a vacation mecca/paradise in my hometown.  

So... Happy September!  PISSS is back!

Dammitsomuch!

Yesterday was my birthday.  So I got the requisite 68 "Happy birthday. I hope it's great!" posts.  Curmudgeonly as I try to be, even I was softened up by the 40-or-so keystrokes that were necessary (give or take a few dozen exclamation points) to brighten my day.

I'd even go so far as to say that a solid 25% of them were sincere. 

So you all win immunity.  At least for the next week or so.  No one will be voted off the island.

However, in the interest of keeping up with the project, I need to dismiss five "friends."  So, I removed myself from my groups.  All seven of them.  I wonder how much of my privacy slipped out through that sieve?

The next couple of weeks will be crazy busy.  Until next time....

Ebye.

Come ON.  Y'all are just making this too easy!!!

Tonight's friend to be-gone has been posting her Ebay listings.  Non-stop.  For the past week.  Dozens of them.

And they're for designer clothing, shoes, and handbags that each cost more than I spend on clothing in a year.  Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration, but they certainly cost more than I'd spend on a shopping spree that I'd consider a good haul.

If I wanted to buy stuff, you know what website I'd go to?  Ebay!

It's irritating.  I know, I could just "hide" you, but the rest of your posts are music videos that don't appeal to me in the least, and shout-outs to your girlz in which you intentionally replace every letter "s" with a "z."  For realz.  You gotz to go.  

Your brother.

Endomondo, your identical twin brother is going today.  Same reasons.  I mean, really, it's only fair.

Well, except that he doesn't post the workout stuff...

But still -- I'm sure I won't be missed.  And I get to check something off my to-do list for today!

EndoFriendo

Ever heard of Endomondo?  Neither had I, until I friended this guy.

From their website:  "Endomondo is a sports community based on free real-time GPS tracking of running, cycling, etc. Bring your mobile on the track and get a complete training log."

Cool!  Really cool!  Useful information... for YOU.  Why, why, why post it for me to read every day?  Why?

So know I how his average speed, calories, distance, and duration whenever he goes out cycling.  Or skating.  Skating?  I'm picturing the opening credits of an eighties sitcom here, although I can't quite put my finger on which one...

Seeing as how you fit into multiple categories for elimination, goodbye!

Sunday Softies.

Today is my husband's birthday.  He's a keeper.  :)

If only so I can snag his photos, and nose about in the things his friends say to (and about) him.

I promise, we're not one of those couples who have Wall conversations that everyone else can read.  Those always feel awkward to me.  Like I'm eavesdropping.  Or like they're there purposefully.  The ones that say something like:

Wife:  Thanks so much, husband, for the new Maserati!
Husband: No problem, wife, we can drive it to the Obscure Band concert.  You know, the one we scored backstage passes to!
Wife: High five!!!
Husband: *Like*

Because, you know, just posting this stuff blatantly would be bragging.  But if it's in the context of a conversation then it's OUR fault for finding out about it.  We shouldn't be reading their publicly posted private messages!

Anyhoo.  My husband.  I love him.  I'll keep him. 
Even if he is getting old.

And still hasn't gotten me that damned Maserati!

The Player.

Listen.  You have been in the back of my mind as one to go eventually.
I thought you'd make it farther than this!

You see, you're also one of the "Nevers."  But you've been my personal soap opera for quite a while now.  You posted daily updates about the dissolution of your marriage (Dude, don't you know that everyone can see the dirty deets?) and it was almost endearing to see you vacillate between devotion and desperation.  I felt really bad for you, and was silently cheering you on from my side of the internet....

And then you got a little weird and religious for a while, and started posting scripture.  Whatever helps you cope is good for you.  If a picture if Jesus makes you feel better, who am I to judge?

And then you tried to shake it off, and publicly vowed that you were going to go out and get yours.  And you posted all those Jersey Shore "duck face near a brick

I forgot.

I forgot we were friends.

Apparently, you forgot you had a Basefook account.  I scanned through my list, and noticed that you had no profile photo.  I took a peek at your Wall.  The last posts were birthday messages from friends in August 2010.  There were a few scattered messages around the holidays, and a few of those "Who are your top friends?" -type apps.  Then happy birthdays from 2009.

This is too easy.

Goodbye, classmate and old friend's cousin.  I'll still think of you every time I watch Dazed and Confused.  You looked just like Sabrina!

The Nevers.

As in, "This person has NEVER interacted with me via Basefook."

Some I friended, some friended me.  Probably cases of  "Oh, hey, I wonder what that person is up to?"  Sometimes you remember a person as a real dynamo, and get curious to see if they ever made that million dollars, or managed to hook up with an entire pro football team.  Of course everyone wants to know if the skinny girl ended up fat.  Or if the guy who set your gaydar off screaming in preschool

Oh, my. I'm running behind.

Get it?  Running behind?

Oh... yeah, I guess I didn't make the joke yet.  Well, in hopes of getting caught up, I'm going to have a marathon post of deletions.  Here we go.

First up, a friend who only posts when he's going to be in some race, somewhere.  So, I understand you like running?  I know your finishing times, your place, and every injury you've sustained.  I know what the weather was like that day.  I know if you had to go uphill.  This is probably of immense interest to someone.  But to me?  Not so much.  I used to run, about 15-20 miles a week.  It was hurty.

Sunday Softies

So, the previous post was my still-owed deletion from two days ago.  Here's my second tribute to a keeper:

We grew apart while still in high school.  HOW DID THAT HAPPEN???

It's one of life's great mysteries.  Okay, so not a mystery... we were tracked differently academically, which eliminated our chances of seeing each other -- even at lunch.  Except for that last Spanish class we took together.  That poor woman!

We'd always been jokers, but we reached a new intensity in Spanish class.  We created absurd mnemonics to remember translations, flapping imaginary pteranodon wings and squawking "Pe-li-cu-la!  Pe-liii-cu-la!" in a voice reminiscent of something you'd hear in a Godzilla movie.  Get it, movie?  Makes perfect sense,

This won't hurt a bit.

Dude.   Your baby is so, so, so, so, so, soooo, sooooo, cute!  So cute that I've commented on a couple of pictures.  I sent you a big old congratulatory message when you joined this elite team called "parents."  (Or not-so-elite, which I suspect I'll hit upon in a future deletion.)

But once again, you're a person that I didn't get to know when I had the chance to do so in high school, and certainly won't develop a deep and intimate friendship with now that six states are between us.

I'm not even sure you can speak.  You were always incredibly quiet.  You may have been shy.  Or maybe your English was poor?  Not judging.  I just seem to remember that your parents were first generation immigrants from... somewhere.  See? That's how tight we were.

Dude with the cute baby, you only have 91 friends.  I envy you.  But that also means that you may notice one less, and furthermore, that you might even be able to narrow it down to me. 

Hold still, we're going to do this quick.  Like a Band-Aid.

Ready?

Hey, what's that over there?

*click*

Oops!

I had a rager of a Friday night -- THREE whole beers (spread over more than three hours) and then a night of Harbor Master on the iFriend.  So I neglected my friend-deleting duties.  So I owe ya two today....

Hey, girlie:  You look just like you did in high school.  Well done!  And you have how many kids?!?  Well done!  Your wedding pics were precious, and I hope you're just as happy as you looked on that day.  Your status updates are always positive, and liberally sprinkled with exclamation points, which is a refreshing change from many others.  Well done!

But if we bumped into each other at the mall (which is unlikely, as I absolutely despise the mall), the conversation would go something like this:  "Hi-i-i-i-i-i! How aaaaaaare yooooooou???"  And probably a friendly hug.  And then awkward stammering and shifting weight from foot to foot until one of us is brave enough to say, "Well, bye!" 

And then another 15 years or so could pass until we meet again, and we'd never once think, "Whatever happened to good old so-and-so?"


...

...  (shift, scratch)

...  (look off wistfully)

...

...Well, bye!

This is getting easier every day!

I have to admit (and yes, I realize that I'm only a week in), that starting off I was having a hard time selecting people to eliminate.  What if they noticed?  Would their feelings be hurt?  Would I come off as being a cruel narcissist?

It would be narcissistic to think they'd notice.  Or care.

And so many people are "friend collectors," with numbers approaching one thousand friends.  I'm pretty social --  I've met a lot of people in my years behind the bar, in restaurants, in college, in mom's groups, yoga classes, music ensembles. etc.  I'd be hard-pressed to friend one thousand people that I'd actually said more than two words to. 

Today's deletion seems like someone I might like, if we had a "real life" relationship.  She works for Planned Parenthood, and has two adorable children, not too far in age from my own.  I don't remember much about her from school -- just that she's one of the few people I've ever met with real red hair and dark eyes, instead of the typical green or gray.  Once again, not much of a basis for a daily update of her life now.  Wouldn't know what to say if I saw her.  Wouldn't recognize her without an introduction, as she's changed a bit physically as well.

I'll see you later....

Dull.

You post updates like, "I'm cooking dinner."
                                   "Going to bed now."
                                   "About to leave for work."
                                   "Headache!"
                                   "Goodnight, FB!"


And you have 468 friends along for the ride, experiencing these intimate details of your life?!?  Girl, is nothing sacred anymore?  You won't notice one less friend.  Peace.

Unfriending the unfriend.

Another deletion, in the same vein as last night, except with you, there's a distinction:  I wouldn't know who you were if you walked up to me on the street and poked me in the eye.

I would probably just yell, "Hey stranger that I've never seen before in my life -- why did you poke me in the eye?"  To which you'd reply, "I have no idea, but I will tell you this; I don't know you either."  And if by chance it came up in the ensuing argument that we both came from the same hometown, we could probably list off names for an hour before we came up with a mutual friend-of-a-friend.

Which is too bad, because it looks like you know how to have a good time!  Keep on keepin' on....

You won't even notice.

No, really.  You won't.

Because we've never interacted.  I know who you are, you know who I am, we went to the same elementary, middle and high school.  But we've never been friends, never shared a class, never been on the same team, never performed in a group, never competed against each other.  I remember that you once had an unsightly wart on your nose, that at some point was removed.  You probably remember me a skinny and snaggle-toothed.  Which at some point changed as well.

Not really anywhere to go from there, so... goodbye!

Sunday Softies

On Sundays, I'd like to give tribute to some of the friends I'm sure to keep while I whittle back at my social network. 

The first is a friend that I miss very, very much, and didn't realize HOW much until last week.  The kids are finally big enough (sort of) to attend their first music festival, so we loaded up our van for a camping and concert adventure!  Finding myself back among the hippies and artists, and Deadheads, and wookies instantly made me wish for the companionship of some friends from my college town.  She is a kindergarten teacher, and quite possibly the sweetest lady I've ever met.  Always soft-spoken, and quick with a wide grin.  An amazing chef, with just the right cocktail to accompany the meal.  And the perfect foil to her delightfully curmudgeonly history-teacher husband, who will never concede to starting a Basefook account of his own.

In our life before kids and trekking across the country to seek  our fame and

Thanks for making today easy for me.

Today, I'll start off by saying that I don't intend this to be a nasty blog -- I'm not trying to look for specific reasons to "unfriend" people.  I think that a lot of people were added to my account because I have a specific attachment to them, a shared moment that ties me to a particular point in my life, and that seeing their face jogs some nostalgia from the deep recesses of my mind.  I hope that each day's released friend post will eventually become a mini-tribute to that person, and will journal some of my experiences from long ago.

But today, when I went to find my "unfriend," a status update piqued my curiosity.

"Bring your favorite pet to Blessing Of The Animals.  (Time/date/location redacted)" 

Are you serious?

Who's got spirit?

YOU'VE got spirit!

You were my cheerleading coach during my freshman year.  I was still naive and impressionable, and bought into that whole "cheerleaders are cool and sought after" Saved by the Bell vision of high school.  Boy, did the shine wear off of that vision quickly!  Especially when I admitted to myself that I had no interest in organized sports whatsoever.

Anyhow, you seem like a nice enough person.  But we have absolutely nothing in common.  Not NFL football, not the NY Mets, and definitely not NASCAR.

Your family owns a liquor store in my hometown, and if I should ever move back there permanently, I guarantee you'll see me in there.  Every.  Day.  But I'll be so blind stinkin' drunk, I probably won't recognize you anyway.

Time for you to G-O, G-O, go Go GO!!!

The first to go.

Yep, you are the very first to go.  I accepted your friend request because I still felt residual guilt over the way kids treated you in elementary school.  The kindest name you were called was probably "third-floor kid," which translated into mainstream taunting, is synonymous with "window licker."

But we were never actually friends.  I don't think we've ever actually spoken to each other.

All you do here is play Cityville, which I've blocked, so I've never seen any post from you whatsoever.  You don't live anywhere remotely close to me, or to our hometown.  I will never see you again in my entire life. 

I wish you the best.  I hope your Cityville friends all pitch in and help you build your hot dog shop. Goodbye.

It's Not You, It's Me.

I have a love-hate relationship with social media.

I also have a little bit of OCD, which is mainly where the "hate" part of that relationship comes in.  I'm having my second cup of coffee, I'm online, and I want to send off a quick note to confirm plans with a real-life-I-actually-see-this-person-in-the-flesh friend.  As long as I'm checking in, I might as well scroll down, and check out everything I've missed today, right?  And I see that so-and-so has had her baby, so I feel obliged to send out a quick congratulations.  And then my old housemate posted a picture -- that in the thumbnail size looks like one of our other housemates that I've lost touch with -- but when I click on it, it turns out to be her uncle Seymour, whom I've never met.  Five of my friends have said "happy birthday" to a former co-worker, which reminds me that he sent me a shout-out on my birthday, so I really should reciprocate.  A guy I dated in middle school posted a YouTube video that I've seen before, but love.  That dog makes me laugh every time!  My second-cousin's husband posted what he had for lunch... lunch?!?!?  Fuuuuuu... there goes my morning.  How much time did I just waste? 

The kicker?  I'm going to get sucked into this same pattern later on today.  Guaranteed.

And I don't even play Farmville.


That's the paradox of the evil Basefook empire (which is, of course, a completely fictional social media platform, and is in no way based on a REAL account, nudgenudgewinkwink); in my misguided attempt to stay connected with all of the people that I have known and have loved, all of those faces from my past, I'm limiting my interaction with the real world.  My kids are watching cartoons while I take an extra twenty... thirty... forty minutes to scroll down through the page. I'm not even really sharing any information anymore, I'm using this time to read about other people who have absolutely no bearing on my here and now.  I know, I could just STOP.  Cold turkey.  Pull the plug.  And believe me, I've tried.  But that sweet, sweet draw of all of your personal drama just sucks me right back in.

So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go.