I’m Sorry You’re on Facebook

My best friend and fiancé have been dodging Facebook for years. And wisely so. Facebook is nothing but a boredom forum and an online social ladder. If I’m yawnin’ it up, have nothing else to do, have already attempted my NY Times Crossword for the day, maybe I’ll sign in to said social network. But I frequently regret it and typically feel more bored when I leave than when I arrive.

Well, I just received two friend invitations. One from Anne-Marie (the friend) and one from Larry (the fiancé).

So now that you’re “connected,” here’s what you have to look forward to:

• Being “poked” and the ensuing feeling of stupidly (and slight grossed out-edness) that you don’t know what the hell being poked means;
• A barrage of emails notifying you of said poke and the unnecessary amount of time you’ll likely waste trying to figure out how to turn off incessant email notifications;
• Inevitable disappointment when you realize that the beer your e-pal just gifted you was a virtual brew;
• Constant, nagging invitations from “friends” who want to know what kind of vampire you are. Or what animal you were in a past life. Or how hot you are as rated by the Facebook community;
• A flood of invites from barely-acquaintances who you haven’t seen or spoken to you in 10 years but want to be your “friend” now;
• The discovery of horrifying photos made public by friends when you were having the worst hair day ever and there looks to be a little drool crusted in the side of your mouth – and that you can’t do a damn thing about;
• The general commercialization of friendships, epitomized by supposed notes you receive from supposed friends who want you to know how much they supposedly like Applebee’s;
• The inappropriate and impersonal messages people post when someone endures some horrific life tragedy, making it tabloid-like fodder for nosy voyeurs and making you feel icky for having read them;
• The realization that now that you’re in, you’re in. Think Mafia.
• Impending embarrassment when your party friend from college posts some humiliating story, message or picture and your professional acquaintances in your network take notice (and often make fun of you, torture you or forever think differently of you);
• Worst of all, that you, your life, your image and likeness, your family, your friends… are now all fair game as far as the Internet’s concerned.

Did I miss anything?

I’m sorry that you both got sucked in. Really, I am.

Facebook is like the high school reunion you don’t want to go to. You might be guilted into it. You might feel like you’re missing out on something if you don’t join in. And if you do drag yourself to it, you regret it because you realize that you already keep in touch with the people you want to keep in touch with. You already have their phone numbers and email addresses.

If you’re lucky, you have some hilarious friends (ahem) who will post inane messages on your news feed that might make you giggle. Or maybe you’ll forgo some embarrassment because the site reminded you of a birthday you would have surely forgotten otherwise (by far, Facebook’s most redeeming feature). But the amusement, if any, will likely be short-lived. And will only point out that you’re incredibly bored and in desperate need of a hobby.

Welcome to Facebook!