It's Not You, It's... Well... You.

I am currently on a break from Facebook.  I spontaneously decided on Wednesday that I would take a week off from reading or posting.  Why, oh why, you ask, have I chosen to teeter on that cliff of social and cultural relevance?  


There are a couple of reasons.  


It is, as you all probably know, a colossal time waster.  I get a number of fascinating work related articles and I put off reading them because I am watching a video of a cat in a bag.  One cat in a bag video is fine.  Five is questionable.  


It has felt increasingly superficial and narcissistic lately.  Granted, I knew it was the pinnacle of narcissism when I opened my account but lately it's felt that way on levels that would give even Charlie Sheen pause.  People who I meet once at an event send me a friend request and then never speak to me again.  Instead, we go on wordlessly observing each other's lives until I inevitably hide them because they are A) annoying or B) annoying and forget they exist.  People I went to high school with send me friend requests without even so much as a "Hi!  We went to high school together and passed notes during Basketweaving Class.  How are you?".  Same conclusion with random event people.  And oddly enough, I get requests from people I BARELY SPOKE TO IN HIGH SCHOOL.  Why are you friending me now?  What is the point?  Are people really feeling internally validated by the number of friends on their pages?  (And the answer is yes.  I was so that person when I had 20 friends.  Sue me.)  


The third reason is somewhat difficult to articulate.  Inexplicably, I feel left out of things even when I've been invited to them.  I actively choose not to go and do something I would rather do instead (which is usually a big fat nothing) but later feel a sense of wistfulness.  Logically I know I probably didn't miss anything awesome, but still...  And the cake topper on that one is when I see friends who've gotten together without me and I feel like the dorky second grader eating lunch by herself.  The really stupid part is...  I do this too.  So why does it bug me when other people do it?  If only it were the 80's and I could go on Sally Jesse Raphael to figure this out.  The red glasses knew all. 


I've decided that too much awareness is a bad thing.  At least for now until I can stop being all tween-y about it. 


I will mostly likely resume my Facebooking at some point.  But it will probably be with the same restraint I reserve for nutritionally void foods.


By the way, I had oatmeal for breakfast.  I thought someone should know.