Dear Facebook, We're Through...Kind Of

I'm breaking up with Facebook. For a week. I know. It's a trial separation leading up to what will be the inevitable divorce.

I'm sure everyone online is aware of the kerfuffle over Facebook's privacy policy. There's a movement to delete profiles on May 31st, another to not sign in on June 6th. Of course, the changes to the privacy policy to make them "simpler" have come through just in time to make those deadlines. By that, the deletion movement has lost some of its wind, as I'm sure has the June 6th protest. But, back in mid-May, I decided that, while I was too lazy to delete my account at this time, I would not sign in for a week to let Facebook (and my friends) know that I could indeed live without it. Facebook's advertisers would not get any hits or views from me in that time, making only a slight dent in FB's back pocket. Even though Facebook admitted to making some mistakes and have clarified the privacy policy, I'm not one to walk away from a commitment. So, I'll be signing off before midnight on the 30th and won't sign back in until the 7th. I'll also be deleting my BlackBerry Facebook app as well so there's no unintentional connection.

Why go to all of this bother, especially when it's only me doing it?

Well, for one, I think Mark Zuckerberg is the ultimate douche. He believes Facebook is too big to fail and that he can get away with just about anything because where else will people go? Back to MySpace? And, for the most part, he's right. Where would we move to if we made a mass exodus? (I say to a bar. Actually have real contact with real friends. But that's just me.) There are other social networks in development, most excitingly Diaspora. But, for now, there's no real, new alternative. So, maybe Mark is right. For now. Without a doubt, what happened to MySpace will happen to Facebook. Eventually. Everything changes. Nothing lasts forever. And, once you've reached the top, the only place to go is down.

Zuckerberg ought to tattoo that somewhere.

For the past two weeks, there were many interesting conversations and rants on the subject of To Delete or Not to Delete as well as Who Cares? I created a Facebook event and invited friends to join me in a week away. It was an underwhelming response with four yeses, 11 maybes and 33 noes. I wasn't surprised. We tend to be such good corporate lambs willing sacrifice privacy, among other things, for convenience or fun or to be part of the crowd.

But that's not what I signed up for.

I'm not so naïve to believe there's such a thing as actual privacy on the internet, or life in general, these days. I use a rewards card knowing they are keeping track of what I purchase. But, at least I'm getting money back for that. Not to mention I've been blogging for nearly a decade, and have been known to overshare. But, I'm not one to post photos or videos, or anything more compromising that an opinion on the internet. Yes, I blab on Twitter on a daily basis and tell people where I'm at via Foursquare. Obviously, I'm not *that* concerned with privacy. I just like to have a say in where what I post is going.

It's a fine line.

The Library of Congress is collecting my tweets. Google me and you'll know some of my innermost thoughts. But, I don't want to be on CNN.com and see what my friends have been reading. I find that incredibly creepy and assumptive. Like I need to be led by my friends' opinions as to what is relevant or cool.

No. I don't.

And, if it is something that's truly relevant to me, or super cool, my real friends will contact me directly.

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I will give Facebook its due credit. I've reconnected with countless people through it. Friends I hadn't talked to for ten or twenty years. That's an incredible thing. I also connected with total strangers who have become friends of sorts. And, in the beginning, I friended people I didn't know just to be polite, accepted requests from a friends' friends in order to not look like a jerk. I ended up with 160+ people connected to me who may or may not have the same views of privacy I do, and I started to ask, Why?

So, on Thursday, I did a mass deletion. I removed about 20 "friends". It felt kind of heartless at first. It's not like you have the option when you delete to send a note saying, "Hey, nothing personal, but I'm removing you from my list. No hard feelings, okay?" (And I didn't have the time to send out personal messages.) Half of the people I was deleting I had already hidden from my news feed, so what was the point of having them linked to me if I wasn't paying attention to what they said? The others removed were courtesy friends that I never really connected with, or actual friends who use Facebook as a promotion tool or their center stage. At the end of the day, I'm sure people won't notice or care that I am no longer their "friend", and, if they do, hopefully, they will find this and accept my apology, or will pick up the phone to ask why. Seriously. Facebook isn't the only form of communication left on the planet, you know?

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When I first joined Facebook, it was fun. I will admit that I was that annoying user whose zombie would attack your zombie with zeal, and would send you karma regularly. But, soon, I grew bored with that. I never got into mobs or farms or the like. Never played any games or IM-ed. Facebook, for me, was about connection and conversation, and the occasional pleasant surprise of catching up with a ghost from the past.

But now? Well, now, I've just about caught up with everyone I want to. I don't need a four-digit friend count to feel a sense of self. And I really couldn't give a rat's backside about what anyone "likes". Facebook has become a bit of a yawn, sort of like a dinner party that's gone on too long and the conversation is dying out.

Still, no one seems ready to leave. Yet. But, I do believe that Facebook has jumped the shark. With competition brewing, the next year of social media is sure to be interesting. It's time for something new. A new group of people. New conversations. A different way to connect. Like, perhaps, in person.

So, a week without Facebook is soon to begin. I'm sure it will be a bit awkward at first. A habit to be broken. But, I'll still be on Twitter. I still have email, and three phone numbers for friends to call or be called. This isn't a way of disconnecting from friends but perhaps connecting with them better. Yet, what I'm most curious to find is how often I will be back on Facebook once the week is through? Or if I will at all.

Any word on when Diaspora will launch?

25 Things

Oh, dear God, no. I am not going to repeat the 25 Things meme here. No. Instead, I'm going to share a video post via my friend, AB, via Justin Plus One about 25 things to hate about Facebook. Thus, I'm totally ripping off two great bloggers, one clever guy and his friends/crew for this post. I officially suck. And I'm okay with that.

Trust me, this month will get better. As soon as I'm done with my taxes. Which should be in another week or two, or my friend/CPA will no longer be my friend or CPA. Enjoy.

She Said He Said

I've always been the chick who has more guy friends than girl friends. I didn't plan it that way. It just sort of happened. Perhaps because I preferred kickball to jumping rope. Not that I'm particularly sporty; I just liked the friendly competition the boys had going. I preferred it to the rather catty competition happening in the girls' corner. Come on, sisters, you know what I mean. Little girls can be big bitches.

As I grew older, I still found myself hanging out with the lads more than the lasses. Guys didn't mind that I was opinionated and prone to use language that would make sailors blush. With guys, I didn't have to mind my Ps and Qs. And the conversations weren't about clothes or hair or boys. Come on, sisters, you know what I mean. In high school, conversations ran about as deep as puddles in most cliques, no? [And I should really qualify all this by saying I grew up in a stucco-encrusted suburb I fondly refer to as Stepford.]

By the time college rolled around, I was used to palling around with the guys and usually being the only girl in the lot. That's when I noticed the whispers. Slut was a common slur. Because *obviously* I was sleeping with all of them. These guys wouldn't just be my friend if there weren't *benefits*, right? A girl couldn't be close friends with a guy unless they were very close indeed. This happened with more frequency and fervor if I was friends with a guy another girl liked but he didn't like her back. That suddenly became my fault. Because, at that age, it's always another woman in your way...right, sisters? It can never be that he isn't the right guy for you. No. It's the slutty girl "friend" re-routing the rooster.

I've come to find that there are some people who absolutely don't believe a man and a woman can have a truly platonic relationship. This is usually the thought pattern of those who sleep with their friends. I don't sleep with friends. I sleep with my boyfriend or lover, not a buddy. I'm not judging a buckfuddy situation. But, that's not what I consider a friendship. That's a quasi-relationship, ill-defined and prone to heartbreak or a bitter end. Most likely, you would not be able to sit across from that "friend's" spouse and have a pleasant conversation about all the fun times you two had without a few hesitations and awkward edits.

College is a heady time. Young adults and sexuality are much like baby rattlesnakes and venom -- we don't yet know how to control it. How much to give off. When to stop it before it goes further than planned. That's all part of growing up. And while I wasn't chaste, I was far from the hose-hound whore a some sorority sisters seemed to believe...and spread about. I can count my college conquests on one hand. And no, I don't have additional digits like Anne Bolin. I bring this up because, nearly two decades after the fact, I recently had to do a reality check. It seems that rumor and innuendo can fester into legend then harden into "fact". Which I found utterly baffling. So much so, emergency text messages were sent to two of my guy friends and a panicked after-midnight call was placed to a girl friend who, too, has her fair share of platonic male mates. Each of the communiques began with WTF?!?

It came in the form of an email in which she said he said, to which I said horseshit. At first, I really didn't care. I mean, seriously, WTF. But it was so outlandish that it began to bug me. What if all this time people were under the impression that actually happened? Now, I'm not one that feels the need to defend myself, nor do I really care what some people think of me, but I do care about the truth. I found myself going right back to sophomore year when I wanted to shout from a bullhorn at every kegger: Seriously, I'm not a slut! Just because we are hanging out does not mean we are making out...or anything else!

Sigh. Trust me, there are plenty of things I actually do that people can judge me on. That I welcome. Have at it. Spread it like wildfire. Whatever. But if I didn't do it...then I get a little pissy.

Rumormongering isn't just a girl thing. Guys were equally guilty of it. I remember one occasion where a dude in our crowd told the world I went home with a certain bloke. This, after I was nice enough to give him a ride home. Because I dropped him off first, I must have gone back to my dorm room with the other guy. When I heard about this, I was furious. The look on his face when I called him out on it -- in public -- was priceless.

"Why would you start a rumor like that?" I demanded. "Uh..." was all he could come up with. "Did you see us go into my dorm together?" I questioned. "Uh, no," he admitted. "Were we making out in front of you or flirting even?" He answered, "No." "Well, then what made you think he ended up spending the night with me?" I huffed. "I just...I...I don't know," he stuttered. "So you just made the whole thing up and spread it around? Kind of an asshole thing to do, isn't it?" He hung his head, muttered that he was sorry and couldn't look me in the eye for a month.

Now, if you'll notice, in my line of questioning I never denied going home with the guy. The truth was, I did. But, that wasn't for gossip guy to say. That was my private affair and none of his or anyone else's business. When the bloke and I later showed up as a couple, the gossiper called me on it. I explained that he assumed what happened and went about spreading the news like a twelve-year-old without asking me if anything had gone on before he did so. That's not what a friend does. But, like I said, some people don't think guys and gals can be friends. And, after that, he and I weren't.

Over the years, the ratio has shifted and I have a larger network of girl friends today. I still have a lot of guy friends, though. And, for the record, I can look every one of their wives in the eye. It's nice that we can all be friends. But it's sad when you stumble upon someone who's still sitting in the quad.