The Great Thing About Facebook.

My whole life I have been, what you might call, socially awkward. Or more accurately, socially inept. Although, people rarely use those phrases. Dork, nerd, spaz, weirdo, and freak, were more common. I just have a hard time fitting in. I am aware of my failings, but am powerless to change.
   The thing is, I can almost appear normal in a one on one conversation. I don't look at your face while we talk, and I often talk about myself, or my own interests more than I should, but still, almost normal. But the more people you add to a conversation, the odder I come off. I don't know when to jump into the flow of a conversation, so I will stay uncomfortably silent for long periods of time and then blurt out meaningless factoids or unrelated opinions.
   And then came Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and the like. And my life totally changed. Now instead of only the people in my direct vicinity being aware that I am incapable of human interaction, I broadcast it to the whole world.

Sorry world. I'm not trying to be a douche. 

Undercover Cop.

This didn't turn out as well as I had hoped. At least it's all documented on Facebook, so maybe I can figure out what went wrong.

But that is how it ended. Perhaps I should go back to the beginning.

Confessions Of A Middle-Aged Lurker.

 

CONFESS!
To what? What do you want? Why am I here? Why are you shining that bright light in my face? Why am I handcuffed to this chair? ...Are these fuzzy handcuffs?
Well, yeah. The cop supply store was out of regular handcuffs, so I had to go to the adult store.
They're very comfy. Do they only come in pink?
I know aren't they? Yes, that's all I saw. I'm thinking about trying some RIT dye. Maybe a nice macho Black or something.
That would be nice. Or maybe just save the pink for the girls and do blue for...
...for the guys, yeah I was thinking about that too. Great idea.

Thanks.
Great minds and all.
Yeah. Now, where were we?
Oh yeah. CONFESS!
To what?!
You know.
I don't. Honestly. I'm a little confused, the last thing I remember was looking at Facebook. And then I woke up here. I've never done anything to anyone. I'm innocent.
You make me sick.
Are you sure it's me? Maybe you ate something.
Shut up. You rebel scum.
Ooh, Star Wars. Nice.
I know, I know. Sometimes my geek shows through.
Oh don't I know it, I can't tell you how many times I've quoted Monty Python or The Princess Bride.
"I do not think that word means what you think it means."
Hahahaha.
Hahahaha... Can I go?
Hahahaha.
Seriously.
Haha... No. Not until you confess.

OK. I don't always wash my hands after I pee.
Ewww. Gross. I wonder if you can dry clean fuzzy cuffs?
I don't pee on my wrists.
Whatever sick-o. But that's not it.
What then? What?!
You have been accused of the heinous crime of... lurking.
What?! No no. That wasn't my fault. She left her blinds open, and I just happened to be taking a walk on the 4th floor fire escape. It was an total accident.
Not peeping. Lurking.
LARPing? Only once when I was a teenager, my friend convinced me hot babes would be there, but it was only Gretchen from the chess club and Androgynous Pat. It was a total bust, I never went back. On the plus side, we did get to go to IHOP afterwards, and I ordered the Rutti Tutti Fresh and Frutti, but I was too embarrassed to say it so I just wrote it down on a piece of napki...
ENOUGH! Not LARPing (dork.) LURKING. Lur-king. Luuuurkiiing.
Does that involve baby oil, a twister board and... never mind. What's is lurking?
Lurking is when you sneak around your friends on social media sites and never say anything.
That's a real thing?
Very real. And you violate it every day. You're a heinous offender.
Serious? No. But... no. No.
Yes. If I was to start a conversation and you just listened in and never said anything, wouldn't that be considered rude?
Well yes. But Facebook isn't like that. It's just people posting a bunch of crap they found on the internet. It's not like a conversation.
You should know this better than most, Mr Graphic Artist. Isn't visual information, pictures and drawings, non-verbal communication?
No, I, uh... It could be.
So, your friends and acquaintances are trying to have a conversation with you, you just stare at them blankly and drool on yourself. You disgust me.
I didn't know. I didn't think of it as a conversation, I thought of it as billboards on the highway. Not something I had to comment on.
Is that so? Do you put things on Facebook?
No. Never. Not usually. Only my blog...
What was that?
My blog posts.

Speak up. I didn't hear you.
My blog posts.
Oooh, the mighty author posts his ART on Facebook. Do people comment?
Yes. Sometimes.
Do you like their comments?
Of course I like them.
No. Do you like them?
What? Press the "like" button? No.
Too high and mighty for that, eh?
No, it's not like that see? They don't care if I like it.
Oh really? And how else do they know if you have seen their comment?
It's the next day?
Too lazy to click a little button, eh?
I didn't know.
How do you feel when people don't respond to your comments.
Empty inside. Dead. So cold.
Is this a joke to you?
No. Yes. A little.
Is it funny when you post something and you don't get a response?
No. But that's different. I actually WROTE something. I didn't find it; I created it.
So. How is that different to the woman who wrote about stupid bosses or the guy bragging about his exercise regimen?
It just is.
Says the arrogant jerk.
I'm not.
You are a no good, two-bit LURKER.

I'm not.
LURKER.
OK, OK, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I promise to change my evil ways and honor Facebook in my heart, and try and keep it all the year.
You promise?
Scout's honor.
You were never a scout.
How do you know? Who are you?
It's me. Bobby. Your best friend, I figured you would have gotten that by now.
Dude, what the hell?! I couldn't see you with that friggin' light in my face. Why are you doing this?
Because I can see when you are on Facebook and you never say anything about MY stuff.
Oh well, I never comment on your stuff because, I don't know how to respond to it.

Well you start typing under the my post where it says your name, and...

No. I know HOW to. Just not always HOW to.
Wha?!
For instance, you posted something about being bored. If I like that, am I saying that I "like" that you are bored? That's just weird. Maybe they should have a button that says, "ambiguous", or "I saw this, and have no opinion on the matter."
You're a moron.
I guess, but that's getting to be a lot of buttons.
Again. What?
One that says "like", one that says "ambiguous", one that says "you're a moron", and one that says "I saw this, and...
N0. YOU are a moron.
OK. "YOU are a moron." Plus I don't think anybody will click on that button, that's kind of a mean thing to say to your friend.
I give up. I'm outta here.
Uh, dude. Hey Bobby, can you undo the cuffs first? Bobby, come back, I'm sorry. I don't "like" this anymore. BOBBY!

Social Media and Other Delusions.

I have a love hate relationship with social media. On one hand, it is a great way to connect with people. A blog (such as this one) is a great way to get your amazing, insightful, funny, well thought out, amusing, coherent, amazingly insightful, comedic words out to an adoring public. Facebook is for catching up with all of your family and cool friends from High School, the Marine Corps, college, that restaurant you worked at after you got out of the military, the Sci-Fi book club, the fantasy book club, haiku club, church, Cub Scouts, kindergarden, that guy you met at the DMV, and all those people from your past lives. Twitter, I understand, is another way that you can get your important thoughts out there into the digital ether: I'm awake - brushed my teeth - sat on the couch - I like Spongebob - walking to the kitchen - ran into the wall 'cause I was tweeting - I like cereal - lol, poured milk on the floor while I was tweeting - lmao, I didn't cry, omg, I am so 'effin funny.
     But I don't think that social media is good for anal-retentive, megalomaniacal, neurotic, self-deprecating, narcissistic, aggrandizing, delusionary, wanna be writers. Every day I wake up and check to see who commented about my latest masterpiece. I am usually disappointed. Not in the quality of the response, but the entire lack there of. I keep expecting to hear that some entity has discovered my writing and wants to offer me a ludicrous sum of money to be clever for a living. "We have decided to make you king and arbiter of all things snarky (but not too snarky) and witty." Alas, it isn't to be. So I will just continue to write for me, and whichever of you enjoy my particular brand of whining… I mean, clever repartee. (I do not sound like a 16 year old girl who writes in her diary about being unloved and how unfair life is!)
     The other thing that is kind of a bummer about social media in general is that it is a party that every one is invited to. You show up hoping to hang out with all of your cool friends, but instead you are surrounded by every loser you ever met. That weird distant cousin with crossed eyes and bad breath, the overly touchy guy from high school, the guy from the Marine Corps who you secretly suspect of having cannibalistic  tendencies, youth pastors, and all sorts of other social misfits. I was trying to talk to my friends Curtis,  John and Joel about this the other day, but they keep accidentally un-friending me (they really need to work the bugs out of Facebook), and when I try to chat with Brooke, Rachel, Mike, and Dave they must just miss my message, because they always go off-line as soon as I say something to them, and when I see Aaron or Josh in church they always get called into a meeting right when we start having a conversation. Oh well, at least I have you right? Hey where are you going? COME BACK!