Thursday, February 19, 2009 at 11:55am.
what is up with facebook elitism?
facebook is what's called a "social networking site." just because it isn't myspace, and just because your parents are on here doesn't make it any more high brow than myspace. it's still a social networking site. it was created to match names to faces that college students would see in classes, parties, and coffee shops. you like back alley improv? my cousin's roomate is in a back alley improv troop! those are the kind of connections you make on facebook. sure, it's a nice place to network too, but not for your next six figure architecture deal, more like for your next stint as a barista or to find someone to design your webpage in exchange for beer and chili-cheese fritos.
i get it that people are friends with their bosses, parents, old aunt, college professor etc, but since when has facebook been a venue for snobbery and high brow elitism?
i have an iphone. i'm not boasting. i got it from my brother last christmas and it took me til march to figure out how to turn it on and put a sim card in. i'm not exaggerating. i had to go see my brother's tech guy to figure it out. the only two things i know how to do with it are dial and use my facebook app. am i on facebook a lot? yes. too much? emphatically yes. i use it to find out where to go on weekends, and to get back in touch with the rest of kids from my high school drama club. in fact, in the last year i have very very rarely been at a loss for what to do on a friday night. i'm constantly dragging my husband to my bff from high school's roomate's sister's 23rd birthday party. or better yet my cousin's boyfriend's post-modern art exhibit of exhibitionism . it's neat to see people all grown up, with boobs and babies and out of the closet. i totally get off on that shit because i am possibly the nosiest person on the planet. you update your status to read "is really wishing he had nacho cheese" and i freaking love nacho cheese! let's talk about it! at work! on our iphones!
i'm kind of tired of reading old people in tired old magazines like Time disparraging what we, the young, have created for our own uses. you oldies are on our turf. you don't like it? take your ball (and your green plants and your virtual cocktails) and go home. you don't want to read mundane status updates seven times a day? why are you logging on seven times a day? i mean, it's not like i'm hacking into microsoft office on your desktop and writing "grace hussar wants to see Shopaholic tonight!!!" i'm loging on to my own page, on my own social networking site and talking about what i'd like to do tonight. can someone please, please seriously, explain how you can complain about that? use twitter or something. or, better yet, take myspace. we'll even throw in friendster (remember that?).
and another thing: i'd like the ban that Time article about the "25 things" forwards from this website. seriously, it's been posted enough. and again, why are you reading the note that someone has posted on their own page about themselves. what's next? are you gonna sue mcdonald's for making you fat? big tobacco for making you smoke? you can't blame someone else for your own actions. you're tired of reading tidbits about people you hardly know? the solution is very simple: DO NOT READ THEM. is it narcissistic to write 25 paragraphs about yourself? yes. but so is posting pictures highlighting your good angle and pretending to like people you haven't seen in two decades. are we really going to argue degrees of narcissism? you're on here too. we're all mad here...
so, in closing, i freaking loved reading your 25 things, even the people i haven't seen outside of cyber space in awhile. i'm not being sarcastic. i now know that my bff from 8th grade "sleeps like peter pan" that you "met your wife on eharmony" and she " was molested by a teacher" and my mom and dad's first date was to "robin and marianne with sean connery" keep em coming! and you know what? i feel like going bowling tonight too! i had that song stuck in my head yesterday! deep dish pizza IS the best, it's true...
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