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.