Nobody tell my boyfriend, but I’m in love with another. It makes me laugh with its witty memes. It keeps me updated on current events by directing me to news stories. It reminds me of birthdays and upcoming events. It doesn’t mind that I semi-stalk friends of friends. This lover has a name– Facebook.
But as much as I love Facebook, there are obvious drawbacks to the site: it’s a huge time waster, the new layout is mediocre at best, and perhaps the worst of all, some of your friends will really begin to annoy the crap out of you. Maybe you didn’t realize how much your friend from college griped about her children, or that your father-in-law should be an honorary member of the Klu Klux Klan. Thanks to Facebook, now you do.
Some Facebook offenses are definitely worse than others. I know someone who told his wife he was divorcing her by posting it to her wall. Another person e-mailed all of her ex-boyfriend’s contacts (myself included) to tell us how he sucked his thumb after sex. These are egregious and rare occurrences on Facebook; most of the offenses are far more subtle.
Man (or woman) in the mirror.
I can’t think of a place I’d want to take a picture less than in my bathroom. This is where you abandon what you ate for lunch, and somehow it is inspiring many of you to perform photo shoots starring you and a Smartphone. You brush your teeth in the bathroom. You take a shower in the bathroom. Some of you even groom your pubes in there. You don’t snap sexy pictures in the middle of a room which has particles of urine and dead skin cells floating around in it. Do what normal people do and learn how to use the self-timer feature so you can take a picture in front of a tree or a Burger King or anywhere else the world doesn’t equate with bowel movements. With so many of you wearing swimsuits in your photos I would have expected to see more poolside shots.
Some of you may not be familiar with the term “humblebrag” but I guarantee you all know at least one person who does this on Facebook. It’s when people try to avoid looking boastful by feigning humility over an accomplishment or event. “The diamond bracelet my husband bought me is just too heavy for my wrist.” “I wish I knew how to do my own makeup. I’ve just never needed it.” “I’d like to be able to wear this suit without people constantly asking me if it’s an Armani.” I’m going to go on a Kanye West all caps rage right now: JUST SAY YOUR LIFE IS BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE’S ALREADY. There’s only one thing douchier than bragging, and that’s humblebragging.
Shut the front door….to your barn.
It is my firm belief that Zynga, the creators of annoying games such as FarmVille and Mafia Wars, wanted to figure out a way to easily destroy Facebook friendships. Never (until these games came along) had I been asked to help a friend tend a virtual crop so they could put virtual food on a virtual table for their virtual family. I also never had the pleasure of being invited to grab a cartoon baseball bat so I could help someone beat down a fictional Mafia boss. Look, if you want to spend all of your time becoming a rockstar in a world which doesn’t exist, I honestly couldn’t care less. I just don’t want you to assume that I’d like to throw my energy into that abyss with you. No more requests to join your ranch, or filling my newsfeed with your pseudo-accomplishments. K? Thx.
Show me the hunnie.
After years of visiting bars, scouring Craigslist, and handing over your fee for an eHarmony membership, I understand why some of you are so excited when you’re finally in a relationship. It warms my heart when you post pictures of your first Christmas together, or the tropical vacation you both recently took. However, some of you cross over from doting partner to downright semi-obsessed creepster who can’t help but post about their significant other every 15 minutes. Guess what? You’re the only one who thinks your boyfriend is cute when he sleeps. You’re the only one who thinks your wife gives the best nose kisses. You’re the only one who thinks your mate cooks the greatest DiGiorno pizza of all time. The rest of us are simply placing bets on how soon it’ll be before the flame burns out.
Riding the Drama Llama around town.
I’m going to put this as bluntly as possible: nobody gives a crap about every single wrong committed against you. When you incessantly post about how much your coworkers suck, or every painstaking detail of a tempestuous breakup, the rest of us aren’t feeling sorry for you, we’re cringing for you. Is it really possible that you, a perfect angel, just keep running into these soap opera-like situations? As someone who has rightly kicked the habit of chronic complaining, I assure you that you’re only convincing us that you’re the problem.
The danger with Facebook is that it is a microcosm of our real personalities. Sometimes we put out the best parts of ourselves, and other times we put out the worst. I’ve thought a lot about what people would think if they based their judgment of me solely on my posts. I’ve determined I come across as the type of person who would make out with her own hand while crying and listening to Spandau Ballet.
We need to consider the person we’re portraying to the world every time we update our status, or add a picture to our photo album. We need to balance out every negative thing we say about our lives with something equally positive. We need keep as many things to ourselves as we are willing to share. The only thing you need not do, under any circumstance, is ask me to help you tend your virtual crop.
This piece originally published on Expats Post