July 5th, 2007

Yes, the sad, sad day has finally come. I have broken down and joined Facebook. For years I have resisted as those around me have giggled about profile pictures and pokes and “walls.” I have even been known to go on tirades about the evils of Facebook: how it degrades communicate, reduces real-life interactions, blah blah blah. But now here I am, a regular Facebook whore.

I’d like to say that I broke down for research purposes. Facebook, like chatrooms or Second Life, surely has it’s interesting social phenomena to be charted, commented on, promptly blogged about. The truth is, I just got weak. After graduating college last month and moving to New York City, I began to think about all the people I missed from school who it would be hard to keep in touch with. I was feeling sentimental, okay? I thought, I’ll make a profile and use it when I want to reach someone. The end.

Except, of course, I’ve been on it now four or five odd days and I’m already addicted. I was addicted from the first four or five odd minutes. Friends? Clubs? Wall messages? Gotta catch ’em all, gotta catch ’em all! Seriously, it’s like Facebook releases little bits of crack into my fingers through my keyboard every time I do something new in the system. I tastes horribly, horribly delicious.

Which, for most of the world, is hardly news. At the moment, it’s just behind-the-times me, standing around all starry eyed. I’d like to think I’ll learn something. I mean, at least something. Like, maybe, how do people flirt on Facebook? How do profiles (and not just pictures) serve as avatars? And how does Facebook affect real-life social interaction–instead of the other way around? Those all sound like valid questions, right? Right? Seriously, I can quit any time I want…

Tags: bad Bonnie, Bonnie life, Facebook, social networking

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