Facebook Rant #1

I’ve thought about deleting my Facebook account several times. I once disabled it for a bit. A whole 24 hours, I think. I meant to go longer, but I got bored.

Usually my reasoning stems from one thing: it can be so incredibly depressing.

Studies have shown that Facebook can lead to depression. People see everyone else’s “perfect lives,” the lives they lead online, which are filled with trips, adventure, and non-stop fun.

But that’s only a small part of my reasoning.

Yes, I still get jealous of people traveling, spending every weekend with friends, or…uh…getting engaged. I think that applies to everyone, right?

You see, I’m a passive Facebook user. I prefer to watch than to participate. I will gladly leaf through dozens of pictures from someone’s trip, but I will hesitantly put up my own pictures—especially when I’m not sure the people in those pictures want them out in the cyber universe.

This is a result of my insecurities, which are many. I wrote a post about one of them once. Maybe I’ll get around to posting it.

Back to Facebook. Though I’m more of a passive user, sometimes I try to interact on Facebook, but I feel like I end up as that Facebook friend. You know, the annoying one who says something that is really stupid and kills the conversation. And then you hover over the unfriend button because you're not really sure why this person is even in your friends list.

Facebook is yet another opportunity for rejection. A rejection of friendship of sorts. Whenever you make a comment, you are trying to be a part of the conversation. However, when you aren’t acknowledged, it feels like rejection. You have been ignored by others in the conversation.

 

Sometimes it feels like when you’re at a party and you desperately try to be a part of the conversation but then you fail miserably when you say something like “Potatoes are my favorite thing ever” when everyone else was talking about Spider-Man reboot #12. Everyone stares and you're outed as awkward in front of people who don't really know you and don't have evidence to prove otherwise.

 

But then it's even more awkward to delete your awkward comment because everyone has seen it already.*

And when that rejection happens, you're just poor Andy Bernard. And that’s depressing.

 

 

*This instance may or may not have happened this week. And it may or may not have been on the post of a guy I've been slightly crushing on on and off for several years. Granted my comment was related, but by the time it posted, it was not related to the current conversation. Moral of the story: no late-night commenting on people's posts who are not close friends. It's just awkward.

Jackson, Jordan; Potato, Potahto

Remember this niece? Well, I have another gem of a conversation.

Her older sister, who is now officially a teenager but has been acting the part for over seven years, apparently is a music snob.

But not in a good way.

In a way that makes me want to shake some sense into her.

Or sit down and cry at what society and music is doing to today’s youth.

She abhors anything that is not country or Taylor Swift.*

No, I’m not sure how I’m related. I think some genetics went terribly wrong. It may be a defect, passed down from her father** but is ten times worse because she’s a young girl in America today.

I should be glad she isn't a Beibs fan, right?

No matter, I’m determined to similarly educate my niece(s) to the finer things in life, namely good music.

But I digress.

My seven-year-old niece, her teenage sister, and I somehow got on the subject of Michael Jackson. I believe the seven-year-old brought it up. Her older sister promptly told me that she didn’t like his music, which I don’t think is even possible. But that was after the following conversation.

Me: Do you even know who Michael Jackson is?

Teenage Niece: No.

Seven-Year-Old Niece: Yes.

Me: Really? Good for you. Who is he?

SYON: Yeah, he’s a basketball player.

If I wasn’t in a small clothing store at that moment, I probably would have laughed a lot louder and longer than I did. Which would be a lot.

It reminds me of the time my older sister (who was at least 16 at the time) casually mentioned that Louis Armstrong walked on moon.

Yes, he walked on the moon, trumpet in hand.

I like to think he was also singing “What a Wonderful World.”

*Taylor Swift is categorized by herself because I believe TSwift has abandoned whatever country roots she may have had as is evident by her last album.

**At least her father likes other genres, specifically rock, and can appreciate decent music. Nevermind the fact that we had to educate him on how to correctly pronounce Chopin and Tchaikovsky when he joined the family. He fits in just fine now.