Facebook Fail
I had to quit Facebook cold-turkey this week.
I was seriously addicted and it had become this enormous time suck. I was checking it every time I got on the computer and posting mobile updates from my phone. I even found myself thinking in terms of status updates!
Plus, you know, Facebook gives the ILLUSION of real connection with people, but it's not really connecting at all, at least for me. It's more like touching base with people--which certainly has its uses, but probably shouldn't be confused with meaningful interaction. And you know what else? For me, distilling my life down to 420-character status updates left me open to judgment by people who had nothing else to go on. Some of that judgment was very hurtful, especially from people I thought should have known better. Blogging seems a safer medium for me to share my spastic, crazy, heartfelt, wide-open life, and the connections I make here seem deeper and more lasting.
So, anyway, that is not to say that I haven't been going through a little withdrawal. If you'll indulge me, here are all the status updates I would have posted over the past week, starting with today:
But seriously, this is called country?
For the second day in a row, I am dressed in black head-to-toe. (Yesterday Ana told me I looked like a Ninja.) Aside from the fact that this is something of self-defeating theory of action in my house, given the amount of pet hair, I'm also kind of worried that people are going to expect me to start singing Johnny Cash songs.
So, anyway, these posts won't be found on Facebook. And honestly, I am glad I gave it up--it's like I gave myself two extra hours a day and I'm using those hours to do some serious writing on my new book.
(If y'all want to share this post on Facebook, though, you should feel free!)
I was seriously addicted and it had become this enormous time suck. I was checking it every time I got on the computer and posting mobile updates from my phone. I even found myself thinking in terms of status updates!
Plus, you know, Facebook gives the ILLUSION of real connection with people, but it's not really connecting at all, at least for me. It's more like touching base with people--which certainly has its uses, but probably shouldn't be confused with meaningful interaction. And you know what else? For me, distilling my life down to 420-character status updates left me open to judgment by people who had nothing else to go on. Some of that judgment was very hurtful, especially from people I thought should have known better. Blogging seems a safer medium for me to share my spastic, crazy, heartfelt, wide-open life, and the connections I make here seem deeper and more lasting.
So, anyway, that is not to say that I haven't been going through a little withdrawal. If you'll indulge me, here are all the status updates I would have posted over the past week, starting with today:
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| For my Texas peeps, this is what March 24th looks like in Huntington, NY. Y'all think about that when you're taking your kids swimming in the outdoor community pool today (not that I'm bitter.) |
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I was never a crier before I had children. I am the BIGGEST crybaby now--really, it's just embarrassing. I cry when I'm low-blood sugar, at stupid sappy songs, at people being kind to me... it's like I had kids and broke the seal or something.***
Overheard: two girls, about ten, walking into Jane's school, deep in conversation, "The thing about the Rocky movies is that it's really just the same movie over and over and over." ***
Just had the most infuriating conversation with my 13-year-old about whether or not Patty Griffin should be classified as "country." Reminded me of the time I told Coop that I thought Bob Dylan had had as much influence on popular music as Paul McCartney. I thought I was headed for divorce court RIGHT THEN AND THERE.But seriously, this is called country?
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I think I may have just re-broken my newly healed broken toe. I ran it right into the washer and I felt that kind of sickening...sensation that heralds a broken toe. On the plus side, this is a good indication of how much acupuncture has done for me. Seriously, before acupuncture, there is no way I would have been barefoot in my house without excruciating pain. I mean, I used to get up and put my shoes on with my nightgown just to get downstairs. Now I'm going barefoot and breaking toes! Really, it's a cause for celebration.Jane, 10, just sent a very excited note to her dad at work because Jumbo Fluke Fishing starts May 1. I know that's going on MY calendar.
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It turns out that two cats on the bed at night is just a lot more than 30 pounds of cat. Maybe there's some sort of multiplying factor that I was unaware of. All I know is that last night I had to leave the bed to the cats and go sleep on the couch.***
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| Ana is a cast member in the musical "Fame," and this is her 80's costume. I wish I'D looked that good in the 80's. |
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For the second day in a row, I am dressed in black head-to-toe. (Yesterday Ana told me I looked like a Ninja.) Aside from the fact that this is something of self-defeating theory of action in my house, given the amount of pet hair, I'm also kind of worried that people are going to expect me to start singing Johnny Cash songs.
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Just got back from taking Ana's guitar and amplifier up to the middle school so she would have it for rehearsal this afternoon. The pervasive negativity of the kids chatting as they passed kind of froze my blood. I wish I could be a tiny voice in their heads telling them to choose positive reinforcement of each other, instead of the slow torture of the hormonally poisoned. Man, it's a wonder any of us survived that time in our lives.***
Jane took Coop to the driving range on Sunday, where she experimented with several new grips.So, anyway, these posts won't be found on Facebook. And honestly, I am glad I gave it up--it's like I gave myself two extra hours a day and I'm using those hours to do some serious writing on my new book.
(If y'all want to share this post on Facebook, though, you should feel free!)
Comments
Also, Edward is clearly confused by the 80s costume. yes, Ed, it was a bad time for fashion.
Anyway, Dylan is so much cooler than the Beatles. End of story.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately. So, because I am the queen of overkill, I purchased my domain name and went over to self-hosting.
(Hold me.)
Thank you for posting your updates, they are hilarious. I will read your blog as long as you wish to write.
That said, it's certainly true that any form of social media can be extremely addicting, especially for those of us who try to work from home in order to combine some semblance of a career and the care of our families.
It's not an easy choice, but I applaud you for even thinking about the issue.
And FWIW, my husband, who avoids the facebook like the plague (but still manages to keep an eye on the widget thingy) has said "Your friend Barb? She's funny." So, you know - we BOTH have missed you. :)
BUT your husband should get together with my husband. If I suggest that ANYone has influenced music the way Paul McCartney has, it's a huge sacrilege. We've had those (ahem) discussions before.
I know what you mean about crying. When I was preggers with my first, the seal broke. Sometimes it starts to reseal, but it's never very tight.
I feel so torn about Facebook. I like the snooping capabilities but what a time vacuum. It just sucks the life right out of you. But checking out blogs does the same thing to me also. I don't know Barb. I just don't know...
I'd much rather meet you here; I am SO glad you're back!