If Life Were Only Like it is on Facebook

Straight out of the gate, let me make one thing clear:  I have an amorous relationship with the Facebook, albeit even if it is a one-way street, there is deep affection.  I believe that any computer application that allows me to peer into other’s lives like the 1950′s “pervert in the tree, outside your window” can’t be a bad thing, can it? Seems harmless enough.  Let’s face it, people are nosy creatures.  Curiosity did kill the cat…right after it finished impregnating humanity.

“Well, at least I’m not the cat.”

Now that we’re clear on why Facebook had initial success, let’s look at why it has had such staying power.  For as much as people like to snoop, other people like to “put it on display”.  I know, I know.  How can I say such a thing when we live in a time of such moderation and conservative moral values?  Next thing you know, women will be showing their “internet ankles” and children will be allowed to play at outdoor parks.

“Yeah Mom, it’s umm, really cool. Where do I plug in my controller?”

Still, morals aside (exactly where I like them), I can’t help but notice that Facebook is creating a bunch of “pseudo-people”.  Honestly, either many of the people I know are taking some serious “creative license” with their Facebook accounts, or they suffer from multiple personality disorder  Give me a minute though, I want to go to the mirror and discuss this issue with Eduardo and Earl.

I’m back.  Eduardo agreed.  Earl didn’t even show.  He’s not exactly a people person, which may explain why he has exactly two friends on Facebook.  I digress.  It’s at this point where I believe a breakdown is needed to show how the lives of myself and my friends would look, if things played out exactly how “Facebook” makes them look like they happened.

My Typical Day – According to Facebook:

5:00 a.m. – First status update, because OMG, who needs sleep, right?  Well, look at that, it’s my Birthday!

5:10 a.m. – I am sharing my Birthday with 38 friends.  This social “netquirk” makes me seem less interesting and unique.  I am annoyed.

5:11 a.m – I rally.

5:12 a.m. – Potential crisis averted.

5:15 a.m. – Let all my friends know about 18 mile run, that I complete in record time,

“That remix was horrible.”

though not before posting 20 links to Youtube, that makes up my complete “Uber-Sprint Playlist”.  I’m edgy like that.

 

7:03 a.m. – Mobile upload of me “working it” on the Starbucks Barista, still glistening from my run.

7:04 a.m. – Change my relationship status from “Single” to “It’s complicated”.

7:05 a.m. – Mobile upload removed by the Facebook “Gestapo”, due to “graphic content”.  Apparently there is no room on Facebook for the “free-spirited”.  Edna, you were so sweet and gentle, even if you were a touch on the “seasoned” side.  Who said liver spots can’t be sexy?  I guess the world will never know about our “de-posted” lust affair.

“Don’t. It’s not.”

7:09 a.m. – Arrive in Jamaica, now that I am able to take a trip weekly. Thanks for expanding the limits of my reality, Facebook.  Also, the pilot knew a shortcut.

8:15 a.m. – Jell-O shots!

9:45 a.m. – Photo Bomb of me and “muh gurls” around the pool, all in the best shape of our lives, while sporting bathing attire.  Normally, this may raise eyebrows, though in Facebook world, I assume all of my friends are just ridiculously fit and predisposed to “…really, really liking spinach salad…with no dressing.  They like it a lot”.  At this time, funny glasses and finger moustaches begin to appear in photos, the same way orphaned kids migrate to “Brangelina”.  These added facial features make me the envy of my Facebook Friends, though I am not concerned with such matters because I’m too busy Salsa dancing with Catalina, or Katerina…or maybe it was Brittany.  Either way, we both “felt the earth move”.  We “Add Friend” and “Like” each other.

3:00 p.m. – Make apology for not having updated my status in so long, as I know my Facebook friends will be so worried.  I have a valid excuse for my absence though, “I’m getting married!”  Reception @ the Central Park Boathouse @ 5:00 p.m.

“Yeah, Congrats Curt…”

 

3:30 p.m. – Tux fittings with groomsmen – quick video upload of Trent “hamming it up” for the camera, as he walks around the Tux shop wearing “only” the top half of the tux.  Oh Trent, you’re such a joker.

3:38:10 p.m. – Walking down the aisle

3:38:15 p.m. – Catalina, or Katerina…or Brittany meets me at the end of the aisle.  I hope the minister reminds me of her name.  I mean, how embarrassing would that be?

3:38:30 p.m. – My palms are sweaty.

3:38:40 p.m. – Breath check.

3:38:42 p.m. – Catal…my soon to be wife looks so hot.  I’m so glad we “waited”.

3:51 p.m. – Wedding photos uploaded.

“It was fantastic. Best day of my life.”

5:14 p.m. – Honeymoon in the Maldives!

5:38 p.m. – Upload of ultrasound photo.  Guess who’s expecting?????

Xavier let us know how he felt about the tight accommodations almost immediately.

6:06 p.m. – Cata-Britt-krina’s water just broke, about to be a Daddy folks!

6:08 p.m. – I’d like to welcome Xavier-Damian-Nikolai-Hugo-Chavez-N-Cognito into the world!

6:15 p.m. – After bagging the placenta, the hospital has “ushered” our new family out into the street.  I offer my thanks to all my friends for the congratulations on Xavier’s birth.  I realize that my new son shares my birthday with me and will forever more, hog my birthday limelight.  I am once again annoyed.

6:16 p.m. – I rally.

6:24 p.m. – Little Xavier just had his first poop.  It was so cute and unique, I just know all of my friends will love this update!

6:27 p.m – Realizing the novelty is wearing off, I offer up Xavier for trade when Cata…my wife steps out for a coffee and postpartum neighbourhood window smashing/pyro spree.  I upload a photo of little Lucifer Xavier while he sleeps.  In the photo I have pinned a note that says “will consider a 66′ Ford Mustang convertible, or perhaps my youth in trade”.

7:27 p.m. – I receive no offers.  I am annoyed.  I thought this was social net “working” not net “slouching”.  Come on people.

8:15 p.m. – My wife has returned, still holding a car door.  Not a door latch, a door.  I upload the photo.  She is annoyed.

8:15:01 p.m. – As the wife appears to be in good spirits, I say my good-byes to the better half and life-ender the apple of my eye, heading out for some well-deserved mischief with the boys!

8:15 p.m. – 2:59 a.m. – Remember to turn “Off” the Facebook “Check-In” app.  Facebook equivalent of the Dark Ages.

3:00 a.m. – Update my Facebook status in drunkenese, letting all my friends know how fantastic I am and how I resemble George Clooney in my bathroom mirror.  On second thought, maybe it is Gary Busey I look like…either way, it’s a celebrity, right?  DELETE every photo taken that evening.

Hey, I could be Nick Nolte.

This is just a small cross section of a Facebook day, I think with some solid effort, I could have crossed off a few more “life checklist” items, though I find I accomplished most of what I had set out to do.  The important thing is that others want the life that I allegedly have. Thanks Facebook, for keeping it real.

 

3 thoughts on “If Life Were Only Like it is on Facebook

  1. I just took a mobile photo of me glistening after reading this post. (In a good way.) Of course I also threw out my FB signature “peace-sign”, if only because like I said, it’s my FB signature.

    While it upset me to discover that I wasn’t in the photo titled “Me and Muh Girls” (What’s with that? I thought I was one of “yuh girls?”), I decided not to delete you from my friends list. Or rather I did delete you, but then I added you again. Only because I missed your hourly photo uploads of Xavier sleeping/eating/sleeping/eating/not sure?/sleeping, as well as your opinions on everything from Angelina Jolie’s gaunt appearance at the Oscars (Heroin? Really? Okay, I trust your judgement) to why women are so emotional all the time.

    I noticed you haven’t re-added me yet. It’s been like ten minutes…I hope you’re okay?

    ps. What’s a park?

    • B…
      Sorry I didn’t respond to your friend request. Angelina and I had a little “stint” in rehab. It was a “no FB zone”. Can you believe it? While they’re at it, why not just ask us to stop breathing? I’m so happy you like the Xavier posts, though now that our little man is “off the boob”, we’ve sent him to boarding school. Never to early for some discipline, right? I’d love to comment on the whole Jamaica trip, though being one of “muh gurls”, you also know “what happens in the cabana, stays in the cabana”.

      P.S. – A park is where I go at night to learn about the birds and the bees. Often though, I just seem to learn about the bees and the bees.

  2. Do I ever! I also know that what happens on the dance floor at the resort disco stays on the dance floor. And what happens in the pool during the morning aquasize class stays in the pool. Also, what happens on the beach mid-day during high season STAYS on the beach.

    Really, it’s all about trust. And following your intoxicated instincts.

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