The Curse of Facebook

How do I say this?

Facebook is the devil. A brilliant, evil, time sucking devil. That I love, dearly. It's one of my favorite ways to waste time: I love seeing all the people I've ever met ever in the history of the world, lined up in small clips so that I can easily stalk their existence, breaking our relationship down in small, single sentence quips that belie the true tempestuous nature of relationships. I love the stupid social games that force me to beg copper pipes off friends and family, although I do try to be considerate of those that don't play.

I do wonder, though, how HEALTHY all of it is. One of the natural functions of relationships is the ending. It's an important part, although painful. People NEED to outgrow each other and move on. When I was young, I saw it as a personal rejection, as everyone from high school went to their separate states and separate worlds, and I was went from being surrounded constantly by a gaggle of giggling girls to living alone in a small apartment, it was crushing. Facebook wasn't around then (yes, I'm that old) and myspace was a year or two in the future. I clung to the few people I knew locally with borderline psychotic terror.

Fast forward *ahem* SOME years. A lot of years. Man, they go by so incredibly fast. A high school acquaintance that I barely knew when I went to school back in the stone ages has passed on. I'm in real mourning. I knew she was sick, although she kept that incredible attitude most days that only the truly ill can seem to. Not like when I stub my toe and curse the pain and carry on like a whiny little girl. Strong.

I grew to like her more than I even knew her in high school. I often read what she wrote with greedy eyes, along with everyone else in my "timeline", this girl who I can't remember if I even spoke to during the hectic time of high school. Rest in peace, Mary. I hope your husband finds some comfort.

All of this sadness this morning makes me wonder how wise my relationship with Facebook is. I mean, really. Is it better to follow the natural rhythm of life, which means out growing each other, or is it better to keep all people past in a list that you can constantly check? Can you move past old romances and ancient drama if it's highlighted for you daily in blue and white? Is it better to wonder occasionally what happened to so and so, or to know?

Is facebook a blessing or a curse?

When Someone Breaks Up With You VIA Social Media.

Aahhh, technology.

It's a wonderful thing, isn't it? With the click of a button I can keep up to date with everyone I've ever met in the history of the world. Ever.

And I really do keep up with everyone I've ever met ever. There's a mental checklist I go through as I scroll through my friends list, and I was sad to see one of my best friends from high school hadn't updated in a while.

Then, she followed me on twitter, and I was thrilled! I @messaged her right away, only to have her promptly unfollow me.

I've been dumped, ladies and gentlemen.

Dumped, I tell you, and I don't know why.

She's not the first, either. And surely not the only person I've ever unceremoniously crossed off my friends list without a second thought. I do admit, my feelings are slightly hurt, I absolutely did love this person, and part of me wants to go into intense cyber stalking mode and track her down and find out what the heck I did wrong. Is it the politics? Am I boring? Do I over-share? I do, don't I?

I'll forebear. No cyber-stalking for me.

Maybe we've just outgrown each other, a phenomenon that would have have happened naturally without the advent of facebook and twitter. Twenty Five years ago (this number has grown exponentially since I started typing it..first it was ten, then twenty...I'm SO old.) there was no way to locate someone on the internet.

Now, we can locate them, and love them, or hate them, or tolerate them for the rest of our lives if we so choose. Is it healthy? Who knows!

It gave me a kind of sadness that was easily nursed with a bowl of homemade chocolate pudding, and a rambling sent out to the universe blog post. I really did like her.

Things were easier before all this social media stuff, weren't they?

Why People Stop Following You.

There's a hugely narcissistic element in internet life. Me! Me! Me! Facebook, your posts are about you, you tweet what you are doing, you stumble things you like, not necessarily that you think your best friend's sister's cousin will like.

You spend the day updating people about you. We all do it. I like to read my friend's status updates with greedy eyes...it helps with the fact that I'm home with two kids locked in a house on a snowy Saturday, but I've learned ages ago that I'm not an average bear.

I LIKE not being average.

I have seen one or two tweets about people getting their feelings hurt when people stop following them and I wanted to touch on that.

It's pretty simple.

Shut up. That's it. You talk too freaking much. If you've tweeted so many times in the last five minutes that I scroll through two whole screens of your tweets, Unfollow.

If you email me blog updates more than once a day...unsubscribe.

If you post more than ten times a day doing five thousand product reviews and tweet them each six times, Unfollow.

IF you don't follow me back? Unfollow. This is a relationship-I'm not your worshiper.

If your website crashes my computer more than once you could be giving away the Taj Mahal and I wouldn't show up. So stop with all the javascript trojans already. (You know who you are.)

See, it's that easy! Have a little respect for your readers. We like what you have to say, that's why we followed you to begin with. Now, give us a little respect back, and we'll both be happy!

Are YOU a child abuser?

By now, we've all heard of the Cartoon-Facebook-Avatar-changy-thingy.

The message evidently started in Greece, made its way viral, culminating last night when a bunch of people thought it originated with pedophiles. It's all supposed to be over today, with there being two general groups of people...

People who thought it drew attention (buzzword: awareness) to child abuse and those of us who, well, didn't.

I was one of those who didn't. I was also an abused child. My mother would, with very little or no provocation, attack me physically, mentally, emotionally. If not for the good will of dozens of staffers at Freedom Village, I probably would have followed in her foot steps.

That was a good twenty years ago. Child abuse wasn't talked about. A couple of teachers DID approach me throughout the years, to ask if I was abused. Of course I said no.

Had they asked if my mother hit me, if she hated me, if she randomly locked me in the basement for hours on end with no access to food, water, or a toilet while she had "friends" over...if she forced me at the age of fourteen, to pull my pants down and lift my shirt up so she could use a belt on my bare skin...well, the answer wouldn't have been no.

She told me once, when I grew up, I would understand.

I understand, all right. I understand that she was a sick lady.  That's what I understand.

But I digress. A facebook avatar change wouldn't have helped me. And it won't help the children that are actually abused, for a number of reasons.

I saw someone say that it would be helpful, because it tells abusers we don't support what they are doing. Well, that's bullshit. I don't honestly believe that ANYONE thinks they are a child abuser. In fact, some of the people who changed their avatar probably DO abuse their children. They just don't think they do. In fact, they probably think that they are stand-up parents. I know my mom did. She would expound for days on end what a great parent she was. 

I've also seen some people argue some pretty ridiculous things are abuse. Like- not breastfeeding your kids. Um, okay. I guess I see the logic behind this one, but there are a whole host of really good reasons people don't. I'm also pretty sure that the people who think that formula is abuse have or will also make a sometime in their child's lives that isn't the perfect choice.

 Glass houses, you know.

 I've seen people say that spanking is abuse. Spanking is *NOT* abuse, provided it's done properly, doesn't involve props, bare skin, and reenactments of Mommy Dearest.  I can count on one hand the amount of times all three of my children put together have gotten a pat on their bum, and not once was there even crying. But they knew they were at the end of the line at that point. If you choose NOT to spank your kids, that's cool. But don't judge the moment you hear the word.

One of my favorites is forcing your kids to go to church when they don't want to. Seriously? So what, the adult is simply to either shell out forty bucks every week for a babysitter or not celebrate their own religion until the child is of an age to be left at home alone? Again, not abuse. Or a violation of rights of any kind. Sorry. It's also not a requirement for a parent to provide a balance of all things religious in the home. You have an entire adult life to research and find your path. When your parents are paying your bills, you're stuck with them.

I've even seen people say having children you can't afford is abuse. Really? Seriously? Where's that line drawn? Who can really AFFORD kids? Because those little suckers are EXPENSIVE. They want to eat three to forty times a day, they want clean clothes without holes in them, and when December rolls around, they want Christmas presents, dammit.

So, should we restrict child bearing to the upper $250,000 crowd? Really?

What about the parents that are so busy working and providing for their children that they rarely see them? The proverbial poor little rich kid? Is that abuse?

So, my question is to you, are you a child abuser? What do you do that other people would consider abuse?
What are you doing-besides changing your Facebook avatar-to actually stop real abuse?

Why is facebook everywhere now?

I use an online calorie counter. It's part of life's punishment for having three children and being older than twenty. In order to stop my expanding bottom from mapping out the state of Texas, I have to watch what I eat. This morning for a treat, I sent my husband, with a coupon, to the local McDonald's.

No, it's not the same one we had trouble with last time.

As I plugged my egg mcmuffin into the counter, the dreaded Facebook button popped up. Do you want to share this on Facebook?

Um, no, why would I? Does anyone I went to high school  with care what I ate for breakfast? They probably want to know that as much as I want to know what piece they need to finish their barn in Farmville. (Every time I see a request for a nail, I think, "so go to Home Depot, what do I care?")

 This damn facebook thing is everywhere. People are telling me where they are. As much as I question the wisdom of hanging an "I'm not home, come rob me" sign all over the world, I'm not going to be too critical. I've done some stupid things in my day.

 It's even invaded Cafemom. I answer a question about kids and diarrhea, and up pops the button. Share this question, and your answer, on Facebook.

 Do you all really care that I just told some lady to keep her kid hydrated and on the BRAT diet? I'm going with no.

 Don't get me wrong, I love it for its good points. I love seeing my old classmates hugging their babies, traveling around the world, and seemingly on top of it. I love getting wished a happy birthday by people I haven't seen since 1997. I love the chance to whine about my childrens' exploding toy box and have some adult commiseration.

 I just wish people would use a little more common sense while sharing.

And that those damn "share" buttons would go the way of the scrunchie.