Facebook is Like a Perpetual Wedding Reception

Remember your wedding reception, when after the adrenaline rush of the ceremony passed and you realized, quite abruptly, that you were standing in a room with a lot people from various parts of your past who know too much? When you saw your college roommate talking to your cousin, it kind of made you freak out a little. You thought, "What if she tells him about my college days? What if he tells her that I was the master of Super Mario Brothers when I was 8 years old? What if he tells her that I still play Super Mario Brothers?"

It was like all your worlds were colliding, and in front of people (grandparents, old neighbors, your second-grade teacher) who should never really know anything about your life after you turned 18. You wondered if the room may explode. And then, when you discovered your brother and your sorority sister slow dancing, you figured that it probably had.

This kind of awkwardness is alive and well on Facebook all day, every day. Signing on to the social networking site (Note: People don't like people who actually network on Facebook) is like willingly subjecting yourself to the atmosphere of your wedding reception again. And if I remember correctly, you got drunk at your reception to dull the pain.

(Drinking + Facebooking, like Drinking + Dialing = not a good idea.)

Facebook Caters to People who Intentionally Call Answering Machines

There was a time when it was not unusual for me to stay on the phone with my friend Kristi for two to three hours. That was before the popularity of e-mail and websites such Facebook. Back then, I actually knew how to communicate with another human being. The phone was a tool for catching up with friends. I was not afraid to leap over small children for the opportunity to answer a ringing telephone.  However, these days the phone is like a hot potato tossed back and forth between me and Dustin:

"You answer it."

"No, you answer it."

"But what will I say?"

"I don't know; how about 'Hello'?"

"I'll let the answering machine catch it."

It's not that I don't like talking to friends anymore -- I just don't know how do it without prompts like, "Sarah is ________." Sometimes I call friends when I know they aren't home, just so that I can talk to their answering machine instead. (Of course, if you are one of my friends, be certain that I have never done this to you in particular.)

Back when talking on the phone was all the rage, people without call waiting were akin to someone isolating themselves from every possibility of communication, perhaps even on purpose. Today they are the same people who refuse to try Facebook on principle, or the ones who leave their account with that cold witness-protection-like universal silhouette in place of their photograph. They are most likely the only ones left who know how to talk on the phone.

Facebook Keeps Military Friends in Touch