Hanging up the Network

Being a part of the generation Y, there are two key rites of passage;  drinking and Facebook.

But lately there has been an underlying sentiment to the social network so popular it becomes a part of the mass (not merely generational) vocabulary, is indeed flailing and falling from the height of its popularity.

I myself became bored of it, its use was pointless, there comes a time  in every late teens life that you question... why -am -I –looking- over- this- virtual- hedge- and- into- my- neighbours- backyard-again?

That is what Facebook is, friends are real estate, their number on our list signifies popularity, and when we are bored, they become a portfolio to aimlessly browse through.

To be frank, the site was not cutting it for me anymore, sure it might cut someone else’s lunch for  few more years but what was the point of having the account when all I did was stay in touch with the written, but not interactive word? What is the point of the account 

when I had no true need for it was it going to help me build a career? I imagine that it would do the latter, because it is site to suss people out, whether they belong in that companies’ folio of workers or not.

To the companies, with or without Facebook we a real estate and I’d like to think that without the site dragging me down, I am the home with few owners or questionable marks.

But it is not just the career that Facebook was deleted.

No, it was also a combination of infatuation with other websites, to become enamoured with new avenues of entertainment and above all, I am becoming more fulfilled in new streets; such as the blog as an example.

The feelings that wrought me with Facebook were often undesirable, isolating even. To log on and see no new messages, or personal notifications apart from the birthday, to have to strike conversation after conversation with real estate (a.k.a friends) felt more like talking to a brick wall than a homely affair.

Then there is the cringe worthiness. After a period of university, the idea of going out, dancing, and then drinking through this failed catch my eye. The archetype of university past-time is to me what some people consider Picasso’s work; abstract, confusing as well as something that you could easily walk past in a gallery if it were filled with other options of art. So, what I am saying is that after a while, and a few bad turns partying just didn’t tickle my fancy. But how does this relate to Facebook? The two terms (Partying and Facebook) are like the stones on the side of the river, the partying that is the water, eventually will wash on to the stones. Night after night of seeing the pages sprawled with people in too tight a dress or complaining of a hangover was not the trigger here, instead 

it was I. seeing photos of myself going out was something to cringe over, having me close my eyes and groan, feel bad within myself. While at the time, I did not realise  at the time, but I do now, I was what Holden would define as a pure and utter phony; doing what was expected, a prerequisite of attending university.  I think that to have Facebook should have a sense of authenticity attached, and when the feelings of cringing are the side to the Facebook salad, then maybe I should have earlier seen that it was not for me.

I have heard of too many horror stories when it comes to a career and Facebook conflicting with the other.

As a young lass reading the teeny bopper magazines I often wondered when I would move up the next level and read women’s mags, I had in my mind that this would not occur, that I would stay with the ones I was reading at the time. but it did change, I went from one big O (Oprah) to another very important word beginning with the same letter.

While Facebook characterised a desire to fit in, to resonate with all around me, the integrity and pride that I as the Daily Red have in this blog has allowed be to graduate from peer concern and sifting through everyone else’s circles rather than mine. 

Like the magazine analogy, I wondered when I’d leave FB for another and now that I have come to those days it doesn’t feel depriving or cut off from everything entirely, probably because I’ve stopped wearing those damn skinny jeans and stilettos and embraced the boat shoes; yep, I’m that sort of gal.

Daily Red