mariodecristofano.com

“Facebook, we have to talk. Things are getting way too complicated and I’m at a point in my life where I don’t want to get tied down. I have friends and a job that are important to me and it’s not fair to any of them that I’m always with you.”
Like a lot of long-term relationships, it’s the little things that wear on you over time. Things you once thought were charming or cute now just annoy the hell out of you.

I’ll admit Facebook swept me off my feet at first. A “What Drink are You” application? Amazing! A whole group dedicated to people don’t like waiting in line? Quirky! The cross-eyed kid from my Grade 2 class that I never talked to tracking me down after all these years? Nostalgic!
But now I ignore my long-lost classmate, I never visit my groups, and I just feel bitter that apparently I’m a Banana Daiquiri.
A lot of the time, a date with Facebook leaves me feeling cheap and unfulfilled.

I realized I had talked to some of my Facebook friends more online than I ever had in person.

I was looking at pictures of my friends’ friends, people I don’t know, at parties I wouldn’t have wanted to go to.

The scary guy that used to throw chairs in my science class was posting about his life, and what he was planning to eat for tea! Every day he’d post. And I was reading them.

I was in a dark place.
And of course, there was the jealousy. Do you know some people have over 1,000 friends? What, are they just giving it away? Friending people they meet on the street, or strangers in bars? Those Facebook sluts! Don’t they have any self-respect? Sure, I add people, but at least I exercise a little self-control. It’s only safe. When you friend someone it’s like you’re friending everyone they’ve ever Facebooked.

Facebook always treated me badly, not giving me enough space and changing the layout behind my back, but I think the relationship really hit the rocks when I spent a summer away from Facebook.

I got a job in an office where Facebook was blocked. Forty hours a week of prime stalking time and I couldn’t even check my profile. But after a couple of weeks of withdrawal sweats, a funny thing happened. I stopped caring that I had been separated from Facebook. I stopped wondering whose status had changed. I didn’t even check it when I got home. I was learning to believe in life after Facebook.

So now I’m cutting Facebook loose. Well, sort of.
Here’s my problem: basically I’m selfish. I want the perks of Facebook without all the commitment.

I don’t want to get pressured into adding the “Hot or Not” application. I don’t want to see the comment the girl I worked with two years ago posted on a picture of her cousin’s baby shower rehearsal. And I do not want to know that the guy who played third clarinet in my junior school band class is “getting crunked on Saturday wooo!”

But I do want to be able to go see Facebook every few days and see my wall posts, check up on friends I actually know, and maybe look at some photo albums.

This means that I just can’t quit Facebook. It wouldn’t stick anyway. The first breakup never does. A few days later, I’d feel guilty and go see what’s on the newsfeed, or Facebook would sheepishly notify me about a message and I’d end up running back. That kind of drama, I just don’t need.

So no, I don’t love you anymore, Facebook. But I hope we can still be friends. Maybe even friends with benefits?

I don’t wear a Bindi! Nor do I fast, or celebrate Ramadam. I dont wear a Turban nor wax lyrical about Allah. There’s a reason for this. Im not Muslim, nor Seekh or Indian or anything else.

I dont raise a flag to the fourth of July, nor do I know the 52 states like the back of my hand, and I dont have ‘thanksgivings’ meals. Do you know why, ? I’m not American.

So as of today, I got very pissed off with everyone and their son who isnt or remotley Irish, when they decided to celebrate St Patricks day, in the pub.

You know, fair enough if your Irish, I understand that, but if your not, I dont understand the excuse to go on the piss. Its like people use the social acceptance that you should have the day off work, and get pissed in a pub. Even if your not Irish.

Perhaps if everyone just concentrated on working 65 hours a week keeping there head down for a few decades instead of using any excuse not to go to work, the country wouldnt be in such a bad state!

Rant over