Facebook Addiction: FBA
So, I have to say, at my ripe old age, I have yet to figure out this addiction to Facebook. Although I will say I am trying to convince Bella that Mark Zuckerberg, the 24 year old billionaire founder of the site, (and only 9 years older than she) is a perfect match (rather than the long haired slacker boy she currently has her sight set on). I have been told by various sources that his personality is kind of “blah”, but um, I’m like, WHO REALLY GIVES A F*&K ABOUT THAT when you’re worth $1.5 billion? I mean 5 years of marriage, a lifetime of security. But I diverge.
Addiction. So many of my friends, seem to find joy in finding people they haven’t spoken to in 20 years, typing their daily goings on (like I really CARE if you are nursing a HANGOVER NOW? or if Alison wrote on Jennifer’s wall, or if Adam posted a news story or if Brian was tagged in a photo.) Who the hell is Brian anyway? So, for those of you who seem to have this problem, I have a 12 step program, that is sure to get you OFF FACEBOOK. (And it’s not a public stock anyway, so the declining traffic won’t hurt any of your profits). Ready?
1) Step away from the computer.
2) Step away from the computer
3) Step away from the computer.
4) Step…well you get it. Not working?
5) Admit you have a problem.
6) Commit to stopping the problem.
7) Tell yourself over and over: “I don’t give a damn about John, Jen, Adam, Peter, Michael, Isabel, David, Steven, Joesph, Paul, Frank, Billy, Theresa, Larry, Debra, Tanje, OR WHAT THE FUCK they are twittering about, voting about, posting about, walling about, wailing about, digging about, tagging about, photoing about, in fact, I don’t care if they all just drop off the face of the earth. Right now. Or at least stop Facebooking.
8) Start (and this is the novel approach) picking up the phone and CALLING people when you feel the urge to communicate.
9) If the phone is no longer an option, because you no longer know how to talk, try Email. Or AIM. Yes, AIMing is still an instaneous way to communicate WITHOUT talking.
10) Reach for the remote control whenever you feel like Facebooking.
11) Reach for the Lexipro if the URGE TO PURGE all your thoughts on Facebook becomes overpowering. Known for it’s anti-depressant effects, it also, apparently helps people with Obsessive disorders. Which I guess, is the case for a Facebook Addict.
12) If all else fails, and you find yourself unable to eat, to sleep, to work, to play, and well, to LIVE, I say it’s time to cancel your internet connection. It’s like you’re a junky living in needle park, right?
So, I’m hopeful that this simple 12 Step works for you. If not, do you really care? There’ll be a new killer app in a few months, to take up your time. So FB? It’s only temporary. Find out now if you are an addict.
Friday Update: Six Thoughts for Making It Through Today
1) Despite working at a weight loss company, I still continue to pack on the pounds. Stress, age, lack of exercise, and I AM NOT TRYING AT ALL. Mainly due to stress and no motivation. The chocolate cake looks too good.
2) I still can’t figure out if it’s Barack or McCain, since I really don’t like either much and now, with the exception of one Catholic friend who would vote Republican even if Jesus came back as a Democrat, all my friends are more or less in the same boat. And frankly, I really don’t think Sarah P is going to be president. I don’t think she’s hot either.
3) Many of my friends, despite their old age, have become Facebook addicts (not me, however. I am more into seeing who is posting on Bella’s wall). But it is very clear that a FBA is going to rise up very soon. (Facebook Anonymous). I will be the ringleader.
4) I need a glass of wine. Right now. I’ve tried to quit and it’s not working. Along with my attempt to stop eating chocolate. On my diet.
5) So I get this email from my financial advisers: Six Strategies for Weathering Marketplace Volatility. (Meanwhile, one of the advisers forgets I have a daughter named Bella, and the other talks to me thinking I’m another one of his clients. OOOPPPPS So, it’s like THEY ARE FREAKING OUT TOO). And I’m like, “guess what? Take all your friggin’ money out, but it in a vaccuum sealed zip lock, and shove under mattress.” Safest thing to do any day of the year. Just don’t let the cleaning lady find it.
6) Get the glass of wine. Be happy, that after your 14 hour day, you are finally home.
Facebook, et al
So, the question of the night is, should I really be blogging when my computer is doing a disk cleanup? Probably not. But the bigger question is, what does it mean to be popular today? And do I really care? It’s like, Friday, when I was sitting at my cube (yes, I STILL SIT IN A FRIGGIN’ CUBE SO SUE ME), and there they went. The popular kids. I mean, those folks who everybody likes. Or pretends to like. Laughing and giggling. Like THEY have a big secret that they are sharing amongst themselves and the rest of us are too lowly to hear it. But they’re probably just laughing about the fact that they say they are voting OBAMA when it’s really McCAIN. We have sure got them fooled, don’t we? Hehehehehe. I stare. I glare. Shut the fuck up. Somebody’s got to do some work around here.
Well, anyway, back to popularity. So Bella’s all excited because she can’t believe that her mother has a FACEBOOK account. And neither can I, actually. I started it because my clients who are all half my age are on there, and well, who wants THEM to know I am half their age. So, I signed up. With a lousy photo of myself. And then, I started inviting friends. And THEN I noticed, so many people in the network are MY AGE, and are professionals. At a fairly high level. Yeah, but I know their tricks. Like me, they want to be young again, part of the “in crowd”. Will high school EVER END?? My list starts growing and GROWING. Everyone I ask to be my friend says: “yes!”. ‘ Cause they want to be popular too. And then, I find people I haven’t seen in YEARS. And they find me. And I notice, THEY have much nicer photos. So, I get a little more into it, and post some better photos. And lo and behold…I have 106 friends. There. I did it. I climbed Mount Everest. I reached over 100. And then I look at Bella’s Facebook. 750 friends. I am dashed. Then I check. The popular kids have way over 100 friends. I am depressed.
NY, NY it’s my kinda town
So, I know I haven’t posted in ages and ages, but what with being out on vacation for two weeks (yes, I went to France) and Bella in the hospital for two weeks after that (she is coming home tomorrow) I thought I’d start out slowly, posting again, after landing with a thud back to earth. As you can imagine, it’s been a trying (VERY TRYING) time and so tonight I went out for drinks with a work friend to a very expensive and not so good restaurant downstairs from my office (at 8:30)–Sorry 11 Madison, I don’t care who your chef is, the portions are more than just portion controlled and for $100 I should have had something a little bit more substantial than pizza and two drinks. Ya think? But I do have to say, aside from the highlight of being able to bitch and moan to my heart’s content to Terrie (yes it was a two way street), I had the unexpected pleasure of getting home in an unexpected way. Who knew as Terrie jumped in the cab and asked: “how are you getting home?” my answer “I’m walking! It’s only like 7 blocks!” would be wrong. Instead, I peddie cabbed. And I must say, it’s been the highlight of the week.
And the price is…
No, it’s only blurry cause I took it from my cell phone. Your eyes are not deceiving you.
Death of a Cell Phone: Part II (aka–I really, REALLY hate Verizon Wireless)
…and so do many hundreds, NO THOUSANDS of others. And I know this because I just spent my last Saturday in NY in a Verizon Wireless store listening to all the other angry customers. So, last week, I get my “refurbished MOTOKRZR” and guess what? It STOPS WORKING altogether when I’m on my trip to Chicago while Bella is having a nervous breakdown about the Mt. Vesuvius on her face and I have 24 hours to go before I get home. In a way, it’s better and someone else can deal with her 15 year old hood, but now, how the hell I am going to reach my clients?
Anyway, back to Saturday. So I get to the store early, and it looks like I am NEXT on line, only this next bit takes over 45 minutes (even though I already know what phone I want) and while I’m waiting, this family (mother, father, 13 year old boy) are having a huge argument which goes like this:
MOM: Let’s just get him the new phone
DAD: No way, cause then it’s going to cost us $50 more per month. Just get the battery.
MOM: But the battery KEEPS DIEING. And they said that he could upgrade and still stay on the family plan.
DAD: That’s not what I HEARD. YOU HEARD WRONG.
MOM: But what if YOU upgrade and we give him the PHONE.
DAD: I AM NOT DOING THAT TODAY. I need to take over the cell phone responsibility.
MOM: NO WAY. The last time you did that, you lost a $300 phone.
KID: You lost it in the cab.
Dad storms out. Kid to mom: Dad’s GONE!!!!!
MOM TO KID: He’s such a child. He’s worse than YOU.
KID: Yeah.
MOM: YOU be quiet.
And then there’s this guy:
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THEY DON’T HAVE MY BATTERY????
And then there’s a woman saying her Blackberry is only six months old and just STOPS WORKING in the middle of a phone call. And the response is for her to CALL THE MANUFACTURER. And the stories, go on and on and on. So I finally I GET my phone, but it’s going to take another 30 minutes or more to transfer all the data from the old phone onto my new phone and I leave it there because I am STARVING. And when I come back I see that the family is STILL THERE and I realize that Verizon MUST be the cause of many divorces, because the man looks like he’s about to kill someone. So I pick up my phone and the manager calls out: “Have a good day” and I’m like, “Yeah, what’s left of it” and as I sign for the phone, I see this:
And I’m like, “are they FRIGGIN’ kidding me??” (sorry for all the blurry pics, it’s just a little difficult to take a Blackberry photo of people you are spying on). But anyway, I get home, thinking my 2 days spent with Verizon over the last year is finally ended. Then I go to charge the phone and after 10 tries, figure out they gave me the WRONG CHARGER. And I just have to wonder, why there aren’t armed guards standing outside all Verizon stores because one of these days that husband is going to come back and take care of the person who really wrecked his marriage.