I don’t really know where to start, except from the beginning. We met about 25 years ago right before we had boobs. It was a wonderful time. We rode bikes and ate too much candy. There were sleep overs and clandestine trips to the bathroom when we laughed hysterically at a tube of Vagisil cream in your Mom’s secret cabinet in the bathroom.
In seventh grade it happened all at once. One day I was watching GI Joe with you in your living room, the next day you had a bra and told me that I was too nerdy to hang out anymore. I remember walking home from your house that day confused and rejected.
In your absence I made other friends. However since we lived a block away we remained in the periphery of each other’s lives for years. We went to the sames schools via the the same bus stop throughout middle and high school.
Occasionally when we were alone, standing there waiting for the bus you would talk to me. You’d strike up a conversation we’d laugh and gossip. Later at school you wouldn’t even make eye contact with me even though just a few hours earlier we were talking like old friends.
Eventually you stopped taking the bus and I saw you less often. I don’t recall a conversation our entire senior year until that strange moment we saw each other at graduation and you wanted to know all about where I was going to college.
Fast forward almost four years, and I was shopping for a coat at some after Christmas Sale at JcPenney’s near where we grew up. And there you were. All smiles like we were ten again. “ Oh my god! How are you? Would I join you for lunch?”
I’m game, why not.
At lunch I learned a lot about your life. You had dropped out of college your freshman year, it wasn’t for you. You were assistant manager working at Penny’s for the past couple of years. Your boyfriend was going to propose at any moment. We were 22, totally different people from our irritating asshole teen-aged selves. Sure I would go out for drinks later.
That night I found myself in a new coat in the towny bar I’d never walked into but had seen everyday while growing up. The bar was full of everyone who never escaped our hometown. I ran into a dozen people I hadn’t seen in years, drank cheap beer and was genuinely excited to see their faces. It was fun and sad all at once. My Dad came and picked me up around 11. As I sat in the car driving away I felt like a teenager again, meaning I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.
I never called you back, I was just busy graduating college and living my life. I wasn’t sure where you fit in, or if it was worth it. I wasn't sure I could bear to hear that you were engaged. I cared. I didn't care. Then again I held onto that slip of paper with your number on it far longer than I like to admit. I think I threw it away shortly after I finished grad school.
Ten years and 2000 miles later you find me on Facebook. I accept your request out of curiosity. We catch up electronically and really have nothing in common after we grow tired talking about the past. After a few giggles over ancient sleep over photos, you’re in the periphery again, there’s nothing to say.
Then you had a baby. Congratulations, it’s a boy. Your a parent. Yay. I’m excited for you.
But, after a few hundred photos, and updates about nothing relatively interesting I surrender. I don’t care what he’s doing. He’s one. I didn’t friend him, I friended you a long long time ago. Hell, I have no idea who you are and I seriously doubt you know me either.
This is a stalemate.
Recently you posted half a dozen facebook status messages about your son’s constipation. While funny, it was too much of the wrong information. When he finally poops, I’m going to click “Remove from Friends” and just be done with it.
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Comments
thankfully, she hasn't ever looked for me. I'm still too uncool, I suppose. heh.
there's something about taking a dump that makes one feel so free and light- even when you're not the one taking it! (heeheeeeee....)
Rrrrrrrrated!
Rated and Tink Picked!
Rated.
Your title is dead-on.
You do owe her this, if I read your piece correctly: when she unfriended you for the first time in seventh grade, she launched you.
The baby will poop. It's happened before.
great post. r.
Baby poop becomes an analogy to all of the worthless and obsessive relationships that we don't need.
In the past I've de-friended. This time I'm working with the privacy controls. It's like creating a 'people from the 80's' channel. I can go look when I want too, but FB is no longer playing a bad 80's flick front and centre in the middle of my computer screen.
I also just learned that you can control who comments in your space ... wish I can found that earlier!
Facebook is for Scrabble.
Before the internet, when a friendship ended it could just die gracefully with time and space separating people. Now, it's just harder, since we're all so connected. My generation seems to desperately want to keep in touch with everyone they ever knew.
I like linked-in a whole lot better :)
Aimlow Joe was here.
http://www.aimlow.com
Rather than Unfriend people who are "morans" on Facebook, I just use the Hide function to keep them out of my newsfeed. That leaves the connection alive in the event more substantive communication wants to be made.
I'm positive that at least half my Facebook friends have done the same for me. Some people just don't have the patience for my brand of chewy posts. Some people actually prefer baby poop. It takes all kinds. But they can still be my Friends.
now I'm setting up a separate one for my professional non family politically active opinionated social me. am I interested in finding old friends I didn't much care about way back when? I don't think they would fit on either of my pages.
so I'd have to set up yet ANOTHER account for "way back when" me who is okay with old "friends" sharing stories of after work me or drinking too much me and/or young asshole me. I like partitioning myself and keeping all my "me's" separate.
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