Love in the Time of... Facebook

Facebook first reached Penn during first semester finals my sophomore year. I went on an “I will not sign up for this e-popularity contest” mission, which lasted for about two minutes. Then I joined. In the library. Where I was supposed to be studying. The site immediately ate my soul.

I spent the remainder of college using Facebook as my main form of procrastination. I’d sign on with the intention of confirming a friend request or getting someone’s email address and somehow, two hours later, I was still there. Half the time, I could not tell you what the hell I was doing for that long. I referred to such episodes as “Facebook Comas,” though “Proof of Addiction” may have been a more apt name.

Soul snatching and GPA detriment aside, Facebook did have its good qualities. Having access to pictures of practically everyone we knew at the ready meant my friends I could illustrate every story we told. This was especially useful when it came to talking about guys: crushes, guys we were dating, those pursuing us, the random cute guy in one of our classes who we’d never actually try to talk to, someone one of us made out with in a random campus bar the night before, etc. It was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, we didn’t have to rely on our own mediocre memories or descriptions of people anymore (“Kinda tall with, um, brown hair?” Right. Because no one else at Penn fit that description). On the other, we ended up wasting even more time online.

I’ll admit it: I was definitely the worst chronic-Facebooker of my friends. I have always found any and every excuse to procrastinate, so this was just too easy. I assumed, though, that by the time I graduated, I’d grow out of it. Of course I wouldn’t keep going on Facebook when I was out of college. I also used to think that if I asked my Magic Eightball if Mark-Paul Gosselaar was going to move to Lambertville and marry me, and it said “Yes,” that I should begin planning the wedding. I have been going on Facebook a lot less, though. I have also started having more creepy experiences on it.

At the beginning of the summer, I woke up one morning and saw that I had a new message on Facebook. From a guy I’d never heard of. I opened it, and read:

Hi Katie,

Let me start by introducing myself my name is “John.” I am 23 years old. I just finished college at a local university where I received a degree in sports management and a minor in political science. I just got a job in college athletics. I like many of the same things you said you like in your profile. I am a hopeless romantic. I was not good with women when I was younger I always said the wrong things but now I am better. I like to think of myself as a caring guy. I would never hurt a woman. That goes ageist my morals. I would like to talk to you or even maybe more but I don't think we should move too fast, I am new at this. Maybe we could exchange email addresses then if that goes well talk on the phone and if that goes well maybe meet and go on a date. You can IM me if you would like.

Talk to you soon,

John

My interests on Facebook are things like “Whales named Wambie.” Wambie is a stuffed Whale hand puppet that my best friend and I bought when we were thirteen. I was pretty certain Mr. John did NOT have any such interests in his profile. And, clearly, I was right. From what I could see, this creepster and I had NOTHING in common. But even more disturbing was his actual message. “I would never hurt a woman?!” I should certainly hope not. “That goes ageist my morals?” 1. Proofread, young man. 2. So you’re telling me you’re not an asshole. Would you like a medal? And, finally, the whole not wanting “to move too fast” thing—don’t worry about it. I promise, we won’t.

I’ve since changed my privacy settings, but that doesn’t mean that Friend Requests from random men haven’t continued popping up time and again. This remains something I don’t understand. Maybe other people look at Facebook as just another way to meet potential love interests online, but I don’t. Yes, it was once most definitely a way to show my friends pictures of guys I was interested in, but I never looked at it as a means to an end. Obsess, but don’t pursue, people! Really, now. Or maybe don’t do that either. (Do as I say, not as I do, or something) It’s not like there aren’t plenty of websites actually created to help you meet people. Facebook just isn’t one of them.

Photo courtesy of this site.