I'm trying to pinpoint the exact moment Facebook became an essential part of my existence. When did I start to believe that I could not function on a daily basis without it? Probably around the time I stopped working and moved back in with my mom. (Sigh) So, by my own admission, addiction to the Face increases exponentially in relation to having nothing better to do. It's a direct proportionality:
Facebook Addiction = No Life
Sobering.
Makes sense, though. Facebook serves as the perfect substitute for the real thing. You have people, social interaction, music, pictures, vibrating hamsters, even happy hour -- a typical Friday night for most of us, except this one exists between you and a computer screen. And that's not even the worst part. The worst part about the Face is that it turns you into a jittery, insecure bundle of neuroses.
Exhibit A:
"Fuck a duck. My status update isn't funny enough. It's been up for, like, a full 20 minutes, and no one has commented yet! It hasn't even gotten a thumbs up. I should delete it and think of something sexier. How does Julie Klam always get 50 people to comment on hers?! Damn. That's it. I need new friends. Friends that will back me up, and comment on my status updates."
Exhibit B:
"Shiit, can I friend someone I've never met before? I mean, I don't want to come off as a creepy stalker, but he's so cute! And we have mutual friends. Isn't that enough? Or do I have to wait for face to face interaction? And how much we talkin 'bout -- one group outing in WeHo? Two 'accidental' encounters at Urth? And when I write on his wall, how should I approach it -- inside joke, flirtatious banter, or feigned naiveté about one of his hobbies?"
Exhibit C:
"OMG, my photo comments are so not up to par! What is wrong with me? I had a nightmare that I wrote embarrassing comments on a high school acquaintance's entire album of Cancún photos. When I woke up, sweating and panting at 4 am, I ran to my computer to double check that it was all a dream. I was prepared to erase 47 comments."*
Ah, the humanity. I marvel at the people who have yet to cave to the lure of the Face. The fact that they have no desire whatsoever to be a part of it is nothing short of miraculous. I envy them.
For those of you who are unsure about your addiction level, I've broken it down into two categories:
Inappropriate Activity
- Compulsively checking your news feed -- ie, refreshing the page every 10 minutes
- Obsessing over the comments on your ex's wall -- ie, "Who the hell is Rebecca? She looks like a ho bag in her prof pic."
- Strategically plotting when to unleash a new photo album -- ie, "My pictures will have a greater chance of visibility on Monday and Tuesday afternoons between 2-4 pm 'cause that's when most people are bored at work. And, as we all know, increased visibility means greater likelihood of photo comments!"
- Intensely stalking someone -- ie, copying the address from one of his house party event pages and pasting it into Google Maps
- Using the status update function to promote your blog or website -- ie, "Michael is marrying http://5secondfilms.com/."
- Reconnecting with friends from elementary school -- ie, joining the group "I Survived Chatsworth Hills Academy in the 80s"
- Mildly stalking someone -- ie, reading your new crush's interests and favorite quotations (This section was invented for moderate stalkers -- no one reads that stuff except the person crushing on you!)
In conclusion, I would like to call attention to the fact that I just spent an hour of my life writing a blog post about how I spend too much time preoccupied with the Face. Progress!
