Monday, December 7, 2009
High school reunion brought to you by Facebook
As a kid in high school, you spend the four years imagining where you will end up in life. You wonder what you'll look like at your high school reunion, whether you will be married, have kids,a career or are just homeless. You and your best friends have a special pact that you will all go together no matter what happens. That is until Jenny gets knocked up by your boyfriend two years later.
I always fancied myself having moved far away, looking completely different--so unrecognizable that even my fingerprints reject me--and I would be with a staggering man who was a multi millionaire; possibly the heir to something like Capri Suns. My infamous career would inhibit me from actually going to the reunion and therefore I would send my assistant to relay my condolences for being unable to make it. I was young.
Of course, I would never wish any of that upon myself now; however, with Facebook, I really don't see any need in actually attending a reunion in person when it occurs.
Daily, I get an unasked for invitation to the lives of those I hoped to never see again. I am subjected to heinous status updates as well as insipid pictures of babies and weddings. No, no and no. I am too young to be anything other than a nanny let alone mother. My premature mind doesn't want to get event invitations to baby showers for people my age.
I get requests from people I forgot existed (my apologies). People somehow find their way into forcing me to add them because they're married and I don't recognize the last name. Therefore I have to ask myself why a Veronica Weller is adding me.
After deciphering how decent she looks on a scale with one end screaming crack whore promoting clubs and the other end a possible former co-worker, I weigh out the score and add her to figure it out. To my surprise, it's the bitch who called me Jessica Drunk for four years. Not so funny for an insecure adolescent.
The friend’s suggestions on my news feed are equally irritating. It's like running into a one night stand at the bank, over and over again. You thought if you graduated you would never have to see them again but they keep popping into your life as well as desktop.
The only reason I was friends with 80 percent of the people I knew was because of proximity. I had no license, we all chose photo as an elective (easy A) and were on the swim team together or something of that nature. They were around me five days a week, seven hours a day; I had to have someone to stand in the lunch line with.
In an article featured in Time Magazine about attending his High School Reunion, Joel Stein mentions how Nicholas A. Christakis and James H. Folwer's book Connected, indeed says we chose our "friends through proximity and shared activity.”
So yes, while my current friends are within proximity again and do share common interests, these are people I actually adore; people who, for the sake of Hallmark, complete me.
Now I take pride in my friends who I actually share common interest with. I take so much pride that I don't want to share my special friends with anyone. Especially on a social network for people I never liked who just want to lurk through my pictures.