Balance

It's been three weeks Facebook-free, when, in an attempt to choose substance over opiate, I subscribed to The Economist and deleted my Facebook account. Now when I need a Facebook fix, I must instead read analysis of the impact of climate change on Malaysian fishermen.

Mary's (that's me) law of obsession states that obsession can be neither created nor destroyed, although it can change form—and has taken effect. Instead of trawling Facebook photo albums, I'm trawling information, and have already decided it's time to subscribe to Harper's again. Blogs like fivethirtyeight.com and politico.com are showing up on my recent visits tab.

It dawns on me to wonder what Teabaggers actually stand for. Look, there are five official Tea Party web sites. Tea Partiers don't like illegal immigrants or government regulation. But they are different from conservatives because, well I can't tell. Love home foreclosures? Like the Gulf filled with oil? Become a Tea Partier!

Speaking of the Gulf, why does Britain have nothing to say about the BP oil spill? Shouldn't their government be stepping up? What do I don't know I don't know about the governance of global companies? Off to the on-line British papers. Now here's a bit in the Telegraph UK: in order to gain permission to drill off the coast, BP had promised it could handle a spill ten times the size of the current spill, no problemo. Criminal charges are a-brewin . . . not only that . . .

Wadaminit! Quitting FB was supposed to return me to my novel-in-progress, kids, lawn, business, preparing fresh healthy dinners, etceterah, not plunge me deeper into the bowels of the internet. The internet is a formidable adversary to actually living, but I'm off to prepare for a meeting.

Facebook Wish List

Since Facebook is intent on creating the perfect experience for me, there are two things I'd like to see.

One is a filter on status updates that block certain topics. In my case, there are three topics I don't want to hear about: 1.) the details of a friend's cold, particularly regularly updated details of friend's cold symptoms and secretions, 2.) how a friend feels about the performance of friend's favorite sports team last night/this afternoon, and 3.) how friend feels about local weather.

There is nothing wrong with these topics or the people who post them. I don't know why these topics make me crazy; they are arbitrary complaints against the barrage of trivial minutia posted on Facebook, trivial minutia I love. I am thrilled to know a friend is on the 22 bus. It comforts me to know my friends are moving about the city doing their lives. And whether my friend's sandwich has too many/not enough/just the right amount of onions I also think is a noble use of Facebook. I understand onions.

But a filter that blocks updates on certain subjects would be mean next time I see friend I won't be thinking about the phlegm filling friend's lungs.

The second thing is a way to block notification of posts after my posts on a case by case basis. Usually I want to see the other posts b/c I am interested in whatever subject was updated, else I wouldn't have commented on it. Occasionally though there is that post that garners LOLs, ROTFLs, IMHOs, me toos, funnys, etc. for seemingly weeks on end, and wouldn't it be nice to click "Stop notifications on comments on this thread" directly from one's email inbox.

Facebook Thursday

It's bad enough when annoying people from your past friend you on Facebook (no I am not referring to you; you're my favorite), but even worse when lawyers serve you papers over Facebook. A couple in Australia defaulted on a loan and could not be found at any listed address but they could be found on Facebook. That's a new problem with evading a warrant; you have to give up your Facebook account.

In a related vein, last night I attended an unofficial 25th high school reunion that was organized over Facebook. No need to bring family pictures; we had seen them all. High school wasn't horrific for me (that distinction belongs to middle school) but I approach these reunion thingeys like a Fear Factor challenge: I am compelled to attend them. Like, after Rocky, I was determined to drink a glass of raw eggs. A voice for decades told me I had to do it. Never did; the closest I've gotten is to break eggs into milkshakes and smoothies, but this voice relentlessly calls me a wimp. And when Laverne and Shirley drank Pepsi mixed with milk, that same voice told me I had to drink Pepsi mixed with milk. I haven't done that yet either, but the voice is there, telling me I have about forty years left to drink that Pepsi with milk so I better get to it.

The reunion wasn't bad. I had a good time.

Change Your Privacy Settings, People

OK, I'm officially eliminating Cute Fridays. I don't have enough time to keep a stockpile of cute to post on Fridays, though I'm sure there's more than enough cute out there were I more committed. I may replace Cute Fridays with Facebook Fridays as I'm seeing an increasing amount of weird articles about Facebook. Let's just call today Facebook Friday, and leave it at that for now.

According to a Wall Street Journal article, college admissions departments are increasingly reading applicants' Facebook pages to inform their final decisions. Some students have been denied admission for what's on their Facebook page. While there's more to this article, let's stop right there for a moment.

1.) Anyone who would judge a hormonally raging teenager for what's on his or her Facebook page on a given day is a moron. Those status reports have a shorter shelf life than a fart in the wind. Give the poor kids a break. I've read adult's postings I'm sure they regret the next day. And those are just mine.

2.) Aren't the six page, three essay, three recommendation applications enough? You now need a Facebook page?

Onward through the article. One kid was denied admission for raving about the school to admisssion's people, then trashing the school on Facebook. Again, people, leave the kids' Facebook pages alone. It's creepy—like adults who listen in on their kids' phone calls and read their diarys—and it borders on pedophilic.

Kids are aware schools may look at their pages so now tweak them to be admissions friendly:

"Marc, who plans to apply early to Stanford University, says he won't mention that he loves to read X-Men comic books. His Facebook literary picks currently include "Crime and Punishment" and "Pride and Prejudice.""

Aw geez.

"Students need to be accountable for their actions," says Scott Anderson, director of college guidance at St. George's Independent School, a private school near Memphis, Tenn. When writing on Facebook or MySpace, he says, they should be thinking, "Is this something you want your grandmother to see?"

Oh right, the granny rule. There's a liberating model to live by: if it would offend grandma, don't say it.